


Out Of The Question

by Shinsun



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AU-ness, Adoption, Casual Symbolism, Conspiracies Involving Dairy Products, Daddy/Mommy Issues, Explicit Sexual Content, Frequent Snark, Homophobic Language, Hospitals, Impossible Science, M/M, Made-Up Organizations, Male Moms, Minor Angst, Mpreg, Non-romanticized Pregnancy, Occasional Sap, Suspension Of Disbelief, some OCs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:53:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 89,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinsun/pseuds/Shinsun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aomine and Kagami are roommates, and only that, until the sizzling tension between them kicks things up to another level. But their newfound intimacy results in an unexpected consequence, leading them to discover more about the Generation of Miracles, and themselves, than they ever wanted to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They were in unspoken agreement that they would both keep their mouths shut. It was an embarrassing enough subject just between the two of them, without the hassle and chore of spreading it around, and besides, it wasn’t as if they were dating or anything. They just...sometimes went out to dinner together, because it was cheaper that way, or played a friendly (or not-so-friendly) game of basketball. And sometimes, just sometimes, Kagami would wind up on his back or his hands and knees on their bed with Aomine buried balls-deep inside him. No big deal.

 

How and why exactly they’d started screwing was a little unclear. When Kagami had left high school behind, he’d firmly thought that he wouldn’t be seeing Aomine again any time soon, but lo and behold, he’d only had to walk a few steps into his new dorm room, a box of his belongings in hand, to run straight into an infuriatingly familiar, smirking tan face, attached to a long, limber body already sprawled out on the only bed in the room.

 

At first, he’d thrown a fit over having his idiot high school rival as a roommate; of all the infernal, evil curses to be saddled with, he thought he must have done something to seriously piss off the fates to earn this brutal of a punishment. Scowling, he had stubbornly set up his bedding on the floor, refusing to share a bed with the asshole, but one miserable night spent tossing and turning and one grueling day of college with heavy eyelids and an aching back was enough to easily cure him of that resolution, and afterwards he’d ruefully claimed the side by the window, hoping Aomine wouldn’t push him out of it in his sleep. Of course the bastard hogged the blankets, talked in his sleep, snored like a jackhammer, and drooled, but eventually Kagami was deadened to all of that, and didn’t even grumble to himself resentfully as he drifted to sleep anymore.

 

He still thought the whole arrangement was complete and total bullshit, and he should ask to switch roommates with someone else in the dorm, but he’d missed his chance, and he supposed it could have been worse. At least they already knew each other so they didn’t have to endure tedious and awkward introductions, and at least they shared a common interest that would hopefully keep the chances of them murdering each other rather low. Of course, they still butted heads, over things as stupid as Aomine leaving his underwear hanging on the back of the only chair they owned (“the laundry basket is _two steps away_ , you lazy piece of shit!”), or Kagami using Aomine’s toothbrush and forgetting to rinse it off (“it was too dark to tell them apart!”). For the most part, though, they got along fine, when they weren’t snapping at each others’ heels and poking each other in the face, and on the basketball court, as always, they were splendidly in synch.

 

Somewhere along the line, hormones and rivalry had, perhaps inevitably, blurred into tension and attraction, and in a dizzying turn of events Kagami found himself being the giver and recipient of many a handjob, and much more, from the very person he’d sworn on his basketball shoes to oppose and despise for the rest of his natural-born life. It was almost scary how easily it had happened, though; how neither of them had questioned it until they were both sweating and panting and covered in each others’ seed.

 

Arguments had become a daily - sometimes hourly - routine between the two of them. This time, it was over Aomine bouncing a basketball against the wall annoyingly while Kagami was trying and failing to study for an upcoming and much-dreaded test.

 

“Would you fucking stop that?” he snapped without turning around, focusing on the pencil he had pressed so hard to the page it was leaving indentations; he had read the last line at least seven times, the words bypassing his brain without comprehension, registering as straight gibberish.

 

For a moment, the hollow, repetitive thudding of the ball fell silent….and then started right back up again, undaunted. Kagami whirled around in his seat, a vein pulsing in his forehead, “Oi, Aho! I said cut that out!”

 

“But I’m booored,” Aomine complained, shoving the ball against the plaster again, where Kagami could see a shallow dent was starting to form.

 

Standing up so fast he knocked over the chair, he stormed over to the idiot and snatched the culprit for the damage (and his burgeoning headache) out of his hands, “Look what you’re doing, dumbass! We can’t afford to have that fixed!”

 

“Hey, give that back.” Aomine protested, sitting up and holding out his hands in a demanding gesture for the ball clenched in Kagami’s own.

 

“Why, so you can keep making a racket and get both of us thrown out? Hell no.” As usual, he remained the only voice of reason aboard this sinking ship.

 

Aomine’s immature pout disappeared and his eyes glittered sinfully, “I’ll show you a racket.”

 

His intent sailed right over Kagami’s head, but he didn’t doubt for a moment that he wouldn’t like whatever the moron had in mind, regardless; Aomine’s knowledge of how to piss him off was extensive, and only growing longer and more detailed by the day.

 

“What are you on about this time?” he scowled, propping the offending basketball against his hip.

 

“Nothing,” Aomine replied instantly, a slow smirk stretching his mouth.

 

Kagami heaved a long-suffering sigh and tossed the basketball into the laundry basket across the room, easily making the shot, “This is why you’re a moron.”

 

“Not as moronic as others I could name,” came the immediate, careless retort.

 

“Asshole.”

 

“Guilty,” Aomine shrugged, looking not in the least so.

 

“Why do I put up with you, you’re such a pain in the ass,” Kagami muttered, turning and setting the chair back on its legs, preparing to get back to work.

 

“Because I’m an irresistibly charming basketball and sex god?” Aomine suggested smoothly.

 

Kagami sputtered indignantly and whipped back around, staring at his grinning, lounging roommate as if he’d sprouted a second head. His arrogance and occasional narcissism blew him away sometimes, and he wondered for the hundredth time how on Earth the egotistical idiot kept both feet on the ground with his head so full of hot air.

 

“....It’s official, I’ve lost my fucking mind,” he decided after a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat. Giving up on trying to cram for the test, he sat down heavily beside Aomine, not moving his hand from his face.

 

“Aw, don’t take it too hard, Bakagami,” Aomine teased, voice sober and deadpan, poking his cheek, “You can’t lose what you don’t have.”

 

“Bastard!” Kagami snarled, tackling him and intending to punch him right in his stupid face for yet _another_ tasteless insult at his expense, but he didn’t get that far.

 

Aomine leaned up to meet him with a leer and grabbed a fistful of his hair, bringing their lips crashing together. It was sudden, it was rough, and it left no room for questions or protests. And after a split-second’s paralyzing shock, the burn of Kagami’s anger melted away in the face of something much hotter, much more demanding, something that had him grinding his mouth against Aomine’s, pressing for control of the unexpected, almost violent kiss. He refused to give in and submit to him, and his only other choice was to fight back.

 

So fight he did; wrestling with unyielding, but surprisingly smooth lips, tangling his fingers in the sheets on either side of Aomine’s head, pinning him down with one knee pressed into the firm abdomen beneath him. Boldly, he pried Aomine’s lips open with his own, plunging between them with his tongue, managing hot bursts of breath through his nose as he changed the angle of their melding mouths. Aomine’s fingers tightened in the hair at the nape of his neck, his other hand clamping down on his shoulder, preventing him from moving away, and he was surprised to find, upon fleetingly searching himself, that he didn’t feel an urge to escape. No, he was feeling much rawer, baser urges at the moment. He was definitely going to kick Aomine’s ass when he came to his senses, but right now….well, right now he was actually considering doing something else to it.

 

Aomine didn’t give him that chance, however, surging up with his entire body and flipping their positions with tremendous strength, catching Kagami off guard as he slammed him down on the mattress, lips grappling with his own around a muffled growl, or what might have been a moan in disguise. He wedged one long, powerful thigh between Kagami’s knees, effectively separating them, one hand skimming down his chest before sliding under his shirt, heated fingers brushing against the sensitive skin bringing out a shiver from Kagami. He didn’t just lie there either, digging his fingers into Aomine’s shoulder blades, kicking him in the hip sharply when that wandering hand traveled lower, squeezing the aching flesh straining the front of his pants. Undeterred, Aomine fiercely rubbed his semi-hard erection, fucking his mouth with his tongue, imitating something much more primitive.

 

If Kagami had been capable of coherent thought at some point during this transgression, he definitely wasn’t anymore; he couldn’t think or ask, he could only feel. He couldn’t stop the sounds of carnal pleasure that were jerked from him with every stroke of Aomine’s large, warm hand on his cock, nor the trembling that wracked his body beneath the large, scorching one of his rival.

 

He felt Aomine’s own rock-hard erection insistently prodding his stomach, and a detached prickle of unease swept over him at the formidable size of the thing. Basic survival instinct, wondering how he was going to handle that rigid, throbbing monster. This wouldn’t be his first time sleeping with another person, or even sleeping with another _man_ \- and he definitely knew that Aomine intended to sleep with him by now - but it would be his first time on the receiving end, which seemed non-negotiable at this point...and he felt a brief flash of sympathy for his past partners, taking it like freaking champs.

 

Finally, Aomine broke the heated kiss, and Kagami registered a surge of purely physical satisfaction to see he was gulping harsh, unsteady breaths, tan cheeks flushed with color, stormy blue eyes glazed with pleasure. Absently, he reached up and snagged a hand in his dark hair, sifting through it lightly before giving it a sharp tug.

 

“ _God_ ,” Aomine gasped, head tilting back, rutting his hips against Kagami’s belly in what Kagami was pretty sure was an involuntary response. One of his hands splayed on Kagami’s chest, bracing his weight, and the other that had been stimulating his arousal a moment ago hovering in a momentary spell of hesitation, “Kagami, shit, let me...let me fuck you. ...Please,” he added as an afterthought, his gaze locked compellingly on Kagami’s own.

 

“Do it.” Kagami commanded, voice a little strained and rusted, amid breathless pants, his chest heaving against Aomine’s searing fingers.

 

The hand wavering at Aomine’s side came up to his own mouth, and two of his fingers slipped between his lips. He slicked them liberally, while Kagami watched with burning, impatient eyes, and his free hand traveled to lower Kagami’s sweats on his hips, the fabric catching on the jutting erection tenting it for a moment before allowing it to spring free. Dropping his hand low, Aomine brushed his wet fingertips teasingly along the cleft of Kagami’s ass, before pressing in and lightly circling his quivering entrance, his slightly parted lips splitting around a smug leer.

 

“Shut up,” Kagami panted irritably, if a little tremulously, seizing the back of his neck and bringing him down to crush their mouths together. Aomine complied, but Kagami could still feel him grinning against his lips, as he slowly slid one finger into him. Breath hitching, Kagami arched halfway off the mattress at the sting of discomfort, and Aomine gave him a moment to adjust, twisting and probing with the finger carefully before another joined it, the unbroken kiss losing some of its intensity as he concentrated. The fingers inside Kagami scissored and curled, and then he felt them scrape against something that sent a burst of stars flaring up behind his eyes, yanking a ragged moan from his throat.

 

Apparently satisfied, Aomine withdrew them, and Kagami heard a rustle of fabric and the muted hiss of a zipper before he felt something much thicker and harder nudging against him. He let his rival’s mouth go, his own lips swollen from the pressure, his face and neck feeling unnaturally hot, and as Aomine moved his hips forward, pushing inside him, he hissed a breath between his teeth, and they just stayed that way for a moment, huffing the sizzling air between them. Then Kagami jerked, lifting his hips and his weeping, neglected cock up in a silent demand for friction. Aomine gave it to him, grinding down, thrusting deep into him and bringing out a low, approving growl. He started choppy, slow, but it wasn’t long before he picked up speed, ramming into Kagami with a wild abandon, grunting intermittent sounds of pleasure, mingling with Kagami’s moans and gasps and occasionally whimpers.

 

They rocked, rutted, ground against each other, harder and faster, the mattress creaking beneath them as hands clawed for purchase and sweating skin slapped together. Kagami’s fingers clenched in Aomine’s shirt, and the breath was punched out of him with the next crest, as impending release tightened and coiled in his stomach. Aomine was close as well, his already unsteady rhythm falling away to feral, almost violent thrusts; neither of them could last long. One of Aomine’s hands fumbled between them and wrapped around Kagami’s erection, pumping it with each driving movement of his hips, and abruptly Kagami tensed, shuddering and groaning as he came, spilling over Aomine’s hand and his own shirt. Aomine slammed his hips forward twice more, and then went rigid as well, gritting out an indistinct curse as his cock twitched and pulsed, releasing jets of slick warmth into Kagami.

 

Rolling off of him after a moment, Aomine collapsed on his back, gasping for breath, and Kagami shifted uncomfortably, making a face as sticky liquid dribbled down his inner thighs.

 

“Nasty,” he muttered, his voice sounding hoarse even to his own ears, sitting up and glaring down at his flushed, grinning roommate, remembering his earlier resolution to beat him up for this.

 

 _“This” being…?_ “...Did you plan this?” he asked skeptically, forked eyebrows drawing together slightly in a frown.

 

Aomine chuckled, without opening his eyes, and folded his arms under his head, “Maybe, a little.”

 

Kagami scoffed, “What do you mean ‘maybe’? How do you ‘maybe’ arrange to fuck somebody?” Realizing what he’d just said, he felt heat crawl up his face, and dropped his gaze, flustered even if he was still wearing the evidence of what they’d just done.

 

“Well, I already knew I wanted to get in your pants,” Kagami’s head shot up at that, and he wrinkled his nose at the thought of all the subtle insinuations and lusty gazes he might have missed over the last few weeks, “It was just a matter of how, and it was just when you leaned so close that I thought I’d give it a try.”

 

“And what if I’d punched you in the face instead of kissing you back?”

 

Aomine seemed to consider this, eyes flitting open, and then hunched his shoulders in a shrug, “But you didn’t, did you?” he sneered, “You couldn’t fucking wait to get it on with me.”

 

Kagami opened his mouth to deliver a stinging retort, but then just snapped it closed, hoping his face wasn’t turning as red as it felt like it was. He’d already known that Aomine was pansexual, for some time now, but also that he supposedly had rather picky taste if his partner didn’t happen to have melon-sized breasts. That he’d apparently been so eager to sleep with Kagami said a lot, and a tentative part of him wondered if he’d be up for doing it again sometime.

 

Not that they should start dating or anything; he didn’t think they would manage to get along for five minutes without throttling each other. But that fevered romp had certainly loosened Kagami up; he felt relaxed and sated, and full...and he was willing to hazard a bet that - as soon as he got a good night’s sleep - he would have a much better time focusing on studying for that test next week. ...So he supposed the bottom line was, he wouldn’t mind doing it again.

 

Just as a stress-reliever.

 

No big deal.

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Aomine thought that if it wasn’t impossible, impractical, and probably unhealthy, he would have been perfectly happy to live in Kagami’s ass year-round. It was just divine, though, he loved that ass; loved rolling it and squeezing in his hands and listening to Kagami gasp in his ear in response, loved sinking himself inside that luscious warmth and pressure where everything was snug and humid and wonderful. Not even a nice, large pair of jiggly boobs could quite measure up...although he’d admitted to himself it was a sacrifice choosing Kagami over the multitude of scrumptious tits he could have discovered with the entirety of the college world spread before him. Like he was surrendering an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet in favor of the sweetest, most succulent, melt-in-your-mouth truffle the place had to offer. That truffle being Kagami’s fantastic ass, of course.

An ass he found himself visiting quite often, enthusiastically, over the last few weeks or so... So enthusiastically that he was beginning to wonder how Kagami wasn’t developing a limp from being ruthlessly pounded like pizza dough almost every other night. He could still push Aomine within an inch of his life on the basketball court, though, and seemed to be upholding his classes well enough, so Aomine didn’t see any reason why he should stop.

“...S-stop, _stop,_ Aomine -!” Kagami choked, bracing his hands against Aomine’s sweating chest to try to push him off; his face that had been flushed a moment ago - until all the color drained from it - contorted with pain, “I feel sick, f-fucking stop!”

By a force of sheer will, Aomine stopped thrusting into that tight, welcoming warmth, panting for breath and looking at him in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Which word don’t you understand, dumbass?” Kagami snapped, voice harsh in contrast with his earlier breathless moaning and stifled, sexy sounds of pleasure, “Get off me!”

Holding up his hands in supplication, Aomine reluctantly obeyed, mourning the loss as he slid out of him; the air hitting his hard, throbbing cock feeling uncomfortably cold in comparison.

Immediately, Kagami leapt up, still sporting a rather insistent erection himself, and quickly stumbled to the tiny bathroom they shared in the dorm room, not even taking time to flick on the light before Aomine heard the toilet seat being lifted, followed by the wet, grotesque sounds of vomiting. Sitting back on his heels with a huff of disappointment - acknowledging that there would be no resuming their previous activity, with a sad glance at his poor, abandoned dick - he decided to count himself lucky that at least Kagami hadn’t gone and hurled on _him._

Kagami returned a few minutes later, furiously brushing his teeth; looking grossed out, annoyed, and a little pale.

“I hope you aren’t using my toothbrush again,” Aomine remarked carelessly, from where he was lounging on the bed, now clothed below the waist.

Unable to retort with a mouth full of toothpaste, Kagami shot him the finger, and rummaged in the clean laundry basket for something to put on his currently naked body. Aomine wouldn’t have complained if he paraded around like that a while longer, but he supposed if he wasn’t going to be getting any, he probably should be careful what he wished for.

Throwing on a loose pair of boxers, Kagami shuffled back to the bathroom to spit out the suds in his mouth, and a moment later Aomine heard him gargle, before he joined his company again, sitting down beside him on the bed.

“Hey, if you’re contagious, go sit over there,” Aomine attempted to tease, “I don’t want you breathing your germs on me.”

“Shut up, asshole.” Kagami, apparently, was not up for the usual banter, and his voice was tired and toneless.

Feeling like a huge jerk - which he supposed he could be from time to time - Aomine looked at the floor, before awkwardly attempting to make up for kicking Kagami when he was down, “Uh...I was only kidding, you know...”

“Just leave me alone for a bit,” Kagami muttered, lying down gingerly, “I feel like shit.”

“You look it.” Mentally slapping himself, Aomine resolved sternly not to let his mouth get ahead of his brain again, while his rival - and, yes, he grudgingly admitted, friend - felt unwell.

Kagami didn’t respond to the jab, however, and when Aomine glanced at him he saw his eyes were closed and he was taking slow, measured breaths, as if to keep from throwing up again.

Scooting a little closer to him, Aomine furrowed his brow thoughtfully. He’d never seen Kagami get sick before - though he supposed they hadn’t known each other all that long - and he couldn’t help but wonder what had caused him to fall ill now.

Not really thinking, he just blurted out what came to mind, “...I told you you shouldn’t have tried that ‘octopus ramen’ Shikyo was going on about the other day.”

Kagami groaned miserably and rolled away from him, cradling his stomach, “You suck so much…don’t mention food of any kind until this thing passes, okay?”

“Right, okay,” Aomine said quickly, shoving a hand through his hair. Wanting to help alleviate the redhead’s discomfort - but not wanting to admit he wanted to help - he kind of felt at a loss for what to say. Judging from his previous attempts to make conversation, he supposed it would be best if he didn’t say anything at all until Kagami felt better, but he already knew he would be horribly bored with no one to talk to and pester and fight with for however long that took. Frustrated, he laid back with a heavy sigh and looked at the ceiling, trying to count all the little cracks in it. This day was not starting out on the right foot at all. Maybe Kagami could make it up to him later, when he wasn’t on the verge of puking his guts out, and play some ball with him while the weather held out.

.

 

.

A little time to rest and quell whatever bug had been plaguing his stomach seemed to brighten Kagami right up, and that very afternoon he eagerly joined Aomine on the nearest street court, fidgeting with anticipation and raring to go. Aomine was relieved, and looking forward to a game to get some of the excess endorphins and tension riding him from this morning out of his system. ...And face the one person who could pressure him and - occasionally - give him a run for his money when it came to the sport they both loved, of course. All their merciless bickering and taunting, all the stress of lectures and essays and tests...all of it just melted away when they went head to head on the court.

They were both smirking, showing lots of teeth, by the time they got started in earnest; pummeling the concrete with the ball that changed hands almost as quickly as it bounced from the ground to their fingertips and back. Neither gave ground, and for every shot Aomine made, Kagami returned it just as quickly, half-smirking, half-snarling with ferocity. Aomine felt elated, and wanted to laugh out loud, which he was only ever able to say when he was playing against his one true rival and equal. They always went all out, and both of them were always drenched in sweat and panting for breath by the time their games ended; they rarely even kept track of the score, unless there was a bet staked on it. Which, today, there was not, but Aomine was pretty sure he was winning nonetheless.

Stealing the ball yet again, he twisted agilely away from Kagami and barreled down the court, his rival hot on his heels, and Kagami caught up to him a moment before he leapt and drove the ball home, the hoop rattling with the impact as he crashed to Earth. He whipped around as Kagami seized the rebound, and tried to make a break for the other side of the court, but Aomine blocked him, shamelessly grinning with the thrill of the challenge. Feinting left before quickly spinning to the right, Kagami managed to get past him, drumming the ball against the pavement and glancing back at him only briefly before making a break for the other hoop.

“Feeling the heat that quick, Bakagami?” Aomine taunted, cutting off his escape again with a leer. Sweat was glistening on Kagami’s brow, and his eyes were darting, his breathing a little unsteady, and rather than reply, he just scowled at him.

It was a little unlike his loud, boisterous rival not to give own vicious rebuttal, not to dish back everything that was thrown at him, but Aomine paid it little mind. Darting in, he easily snatched the ball, and Kagami jerked, as if startled out of daze, before lunging to steal it back. Battling over the much-handled object, they were toe to toe, eye to eye, breathing the hot air between them, but in the end, after a struggle that left him breathless, and all but beaming, Aomine came out on top. With a victorious snicker, he turned to sprint for the net, when he noticed Kagami’s retaliating pursuit was sluggish and halfhearted, his eyes on the ground under his feet, instead of where they should have been. _Is he giving up? But he’s_ never _…_

Fast, unreasonable anger burned in Aomine’s veins, and he halted and whipped around to face his opponent, dribbling menacingly, “What’s the matter, Kagami? Can’t keep up?” The testing taunt was more wicked than before; prompting, demanding a retort...but Kagami didn’t give him one, just taking the barbed words without fighting back.

Breathing harsh and labored, Kagami stopped running as well, bracing his hands against his knees. He didn’t look at Aomine, but even from where he was, Aomine could see his eyes were dull and disinterested.

“You’re bored, then?” he growled furiously, advancing on him, “Why bother playing against me if you’re going to fucking slack off and -”

Kagami interrupted him, lifting his head slightly and gasping for air, “I’m not...slacking off...bastard…”

Snorting, Aomine dribbled the ball right between his legs before taking it back, “Then prove it.”

Mustering a determined glare, Kagami gave a sharp nod and lashed out for the ball, chasing Aomine when he started for the edge of the court, but he still wasn’t trying, and Aomine’s frustration and _fear_ \- because Kagami was the only one who could bring out his joy and ambition in a match...he couldn’t have that if the other lost interest - only grew with every passing second.

Aggressively pivoting on the spot, trying to bring out Kagami’s enthusiasm with a harder challenge, he dribbled behind his back and danced out of reach as Kagami shot after him. It was a sloppy attempt at a block, and Aomine was about to really start railing at him, when he realized Kagami’s momentum hadn’t stopped when he had. In an instant, all his anger drained and was replaced by shock as he watched his rival smash face-first into the concrete, with a thud that sounded much too heavy and loud to his ears.

“K-Kagami…?” Ignoring the ball as it bounced away, he reached out a hand toward his fallen opponent, but then uncertainly withdrew it. He wanted to kick himself for feeling indecisive.

Groaning, Kagami slowly, shakily raised his head from the ground, giving Aomine just enough time to see blood dripping down his forehead, before he let it drop again.

“Kagami!” Unrooting his feet from where they’d been frozen to the pavement, Aomine rushed to his side and, with difficulty (who knew Kagami was such a heavy bastard?) hoisted him up from the ground, gritting his teeth as he lifted him to his feet. Smothering panic before it could surface - it would not do to panic here with Kagami bleeding and apparently unable to stand - he tried to come up with a plan, but all his mind kept turning to was the gash across his rival’s forehead. Better see to that quickly. Not knowing what else he could do, he guided Kagami to the bench where they’d left their bags and dug around for his phone. And Aomine Daiki was forced to do something he had never been good at. Call for help.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Kagami was already aware that he was an idiot. He’d had enough people tell him that to get the picture, but he’d really done it this time.

He couldn’t remember much about _how_ he ended up in the hospital. He remembered the match he’d agreed to play against Aomine, even though he’d still felt kind of crappy, because he wanted to make up for pushing him away mid-thrust to barf up his insides earlier today, and because he’d seen the way the persuasive bastard’s face had lit up as he suggested the idea. It was rare to make Aomine that happy, and only basketball - only basketball with _Kagami_ \- could do it one hundred percent of the time without fail. But then he’d gone from happy right to furious, when Kagami had a hard time keeping up with his plays...everything had been kind of hazy, but he remembered Aomine yelling at him; he remembered a pounding, sort of whooshing noise in his own ears that hadn’t sounded good, and he remembered collapsing and all but cracking his head open. And then he was perched on the edge of an examination table, mind still spinning, while someone wiped the thick blood from his forehead with a clean cloth that kind of stung.

It took him much too long to realize Aomine was standing right beside him, blue eyes warily tracking the people that flitted about. He seemed angry, nervous, and a little flustered, perhaps to be so out of his element, and when the woman mopping his forehead bustled away for a moment, mentioning something about topical anaesthetic, Kagami turned his attention to him.

“....What am I doing here?” he mumbled.

“Dumbass, that’s my line,” Aomine muttered tensely, crossing his arms, and if he had been surprised to hear Kagami speak after such a drawn-out silence, he didn’t show it, “Want to explain what happened back there?”

“...I’m not sure.”

“You know I had to call Satsuki _and_ Tetsu before anyone would even give me something to fucking work with?” he snapped, “Both of them were too far away, so in the end I had to call a goddamn ambulance to come pick up your ass.”

So that was it. “Sorry,” he tried, unsure what Aomine wanted him to say exactly. Now that he was more aware, he could feel a splitting pain originating from his head, and he fought an inclination to reach up and touch it, knowing it would turn out messy.

Aomine sighed, “Don’t apologize, dammit. Just...why did you agree to play if you still weren’t feeling well?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Kagami admitted, hating how childish and meeching the words sounded. Aomine might have been a pain in the ass, a thorn in his side, but Kagami still cared about the irritating idiot, to some degree...maybe.

“Well take a good, long look, Bakagami. I’d say I’m pretty disappointed, wouldn’t you?”

Kagami hung his head. A moment later, a dark red droplet of blood fell onto his knee, and he winced.

“It was stupid of you,” Aomine went on, scratching the side of his nose, “Pushing your body like that when you were still sick…” He trailed off, and the tiny flash of guilt Kagami might have imagined crossing his face completed the statement; _‘And I pushed you and egged you on, because you didn’t tell me.’_

“...So what am I doing here?” he pressed, repeating his earlier question in hopes of changing the subject.

Aomine sighed through his teeth, "Well you don't have a concussion, thankfully, so you don't have to stay overnight. They’re just gonna give you some stitches, and I asked them to check you for an illness, even if it’s just a stomach bug.”

The mechanical tone of voice and complete lack of sarcasm or vulgar jokes was a little unsettling, and it was only after he’d missed his chance to reply that he realized it was because his self-centered, arrogant asshole of a rival was _worried_ about him. So, he actually did have a heart somewhere under all the sneering and perversion.

Aomine was shooed out of the room by a nurse eventually, and Kagami was alone with his thoughts while he waited for the anaesthetic that had been smeared on his forehead to take effect. And then he had nothing of substance to occupy his mind as a needle repeatedly threaded through his skin, the incessant pricking dulled but not erased. When that was over - and he was relieved when it was - he only got a moment’s peace before all sorts of instruments were being shone in his eyes and stuck in his mouth and ears. Like a routine check-up, but he desperately wished he could be left alone to sleep this whole day out of existence.

Just when he thought it was over, and the nurse shuffled away again, the door swung open and a rather young man with striking lilac hair and a clipboard clutched to his chest approached him.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Kishima. Your ah...companion there - ” he jerked his chin in the direction of the waiting room, where Aomine must have been sitting, probably drumming his fingers irritably or trying to find a naughty magazine in the pornographically dry well that was hospital reading material, “- has already filled me in on what’s happened today. That’s quite the nasty cut.”

Kagami shifted awkwardly, unsure how to respond to Aomine being referred to as his ‘companion’, “Uh, I’ll bet you’ve seen worse, being a doctor and all,” he said lamely.

Kishima just smiled tightly, “Not often, in my particular line of work. You see...Kagami-san, right?... We’ve run through your tests, and considering the circumstances  -”

“Are you here to tell me I’ve got some horrible disease or something?” Kagami interrupted impatiently, refusing to acknowledge the twist of unease in his stomach as the idea registered as a very real possibility...not helping with the nausea in the slightest.

“No,” Kishima said patiently, not put out by the interruption, “You’re perfectly healthy, but considering -”

“So you’re -” Kagami started, and it was his turn to be cut off.

“Considering the circumstances and my own personal intuition, I would like your permission to perform one last test before sending you home.”

“My permission?” Kagami snapped, “What do you need that for? You’ve already sewn my head back together and stuffed a million tongue depressors down my throat without my _permission_ …”

Disregarding his aggravated grousing, the doctor adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose, and when he spoke again it was in a noticeably quieter, more hesitant voice, “It’s rather controversial...it could put me out of a job...but in cases like these my intuition hasn’t been mistaken yet.”

“‘Cases like these’?” Kagami echoed suspiciously, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not legally permitted to tell you that until I’ve done the test to be sure,” Kishima muttered, running his latex-covered fingers through his wildly colored hair, “It’ll only take a moment; like an X-ray...you won’t feel a thing, and I promise it won’t cost you a single yen.”

“Why offer to do it then?” Kagami felt he was perfectly justified to feel baffled by this doctor’s (he was strongly starting to suspect _quack’s_ ) strange appearance and stranger words.

“The government covers the expenses, because if left uncaught this particular…affliction...can cause not only local, but national, even worldwide panic and chaos.”

Kagami raised an eyebrow, “...You make it sound like I’ve caught the black plague; isn’t that a little bit of an exaggeration?”

“...No, I don’t believe so.” Kishima murmured, “This is a very serious matter, Kagami-san. Will you give me your permission to run the test, just to be safe?” He held out the clipboard in his hand, indicating the empty space at the bottom with his pen.

Maybe it was the throbbing of his head inciting him to get this over with as quickly as possible, but Kagami - at the end of his rope of patience - found himself shrugging and signing the dotted line, “Sure, why not?”

.

 

.

The test was as Doctor Kishima had said; rather like an X-ray, and he didn’t understand the necessity for the curtain drawn around the bed he was sitting in, nor the conspiratorial whispers of the nurses that performed it.  A few minutes after they hurried off, the curtain drew back slightly and Kishima’s pale purple head peeked in, followed by the rest of him as he stepped over to Kagami.

“Alright, Kagami-san, I have the results of the test back...and now perhaps I can illuminate the situation to you.”

“Situation? What do you mean? Was your ‘intuition’ or whatever right?”

Shifting slightly, looking more nervous than before, Kishima gave a small nod that seemed a little less than professional, “Yes, I believe so,” he said gravely, running a hand through his hair again, “A case like this is...rare, and will probably seem absurd, but I assure you it is definitely not an impossibility. I stand here as proof of that.”

Kagami’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he forced it to relax as the contortion strained the aching injury on his forehead. He chose not to say anything, but something about the doctor’s drastic shift in tone had his attention. It wasn’t the tone of a doctor to a patient, but he wasn’t sure what tone it _was_.

“My suspicion was confirmed when your, ah….friend mentioned the two of you have had unprotected sexual intercourse; he seemed worried about an STI, but I’m not here to tell you that news.”

 _Aomine told this guy that we’ve had sex? That bastard._ Somehow he couldn’t picture Aomine calmly explaining that...or even saying the word in any way that wasn’t immature, teasing, or suggestive.

Impatience resurfacing, Kagami crossed his arms and glowered at the floor, “Then what news _are_ you here to tell me? Spit it out already.”

Again, he was not rebuked for his rudeness, as he’d expected to be, and Kishima was silent for a long moment.

“In recent decades, there has been a sort of medical mystery going around. The government is trying to keep it on the down-low because it could cause some serious conflict if it were made public to the world...that is one reason I hesitate to tell you this.” Straightening his glasses again, Kishima cleared his throat, “But let me be straightforward. The test results say that you have conceived; it appears you are about four weeks through the gestation period.”

Kagami blinked, at a total loss, “....Come again?” Was all he could manage to say.

“Put bluntly, Kagami-san, you are pregnant.” Not giving Kagami time to respond, Kishima pressed on hurriedly, “I know it’s hard to believe, hard to accept, but you’re not the first; many in your position have -”

“You’re crazy,” Kagami scoffed, glad that was finally decided for him, and started to get up from the bed, “Either that or I hit my head way harder than I thought today.”

Kishima’s hand shot out and seized his upper arm, and Kagami stiffened and met his odd violet eyes belligerently.

“Wait,” the doctor insisted, “Before you dismiss it as impossible -”

“It _is_ impossible,” Kagami interrupted, “Now let me go so I can get the hell out of here.”

“Would you like to see the scans that confirm it?” Kishima prompted, holding up his clipboard slightly. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and his voice was suddenly much less kind, and much more cutting, “Even if you refuse to believe it, you can’t make it disappear… In a few months time, you won’t be able to deny it to yourself anymore.”

Despite himself, Kagami hesitated at the cryptic warning, and slowly sat back down, though the skeptical sneer didn’t fade from his face.

“...Let’s say I pretend to believe you - and I’m not saying I do - what...I mean, how would…?” He trailed off, trying to pass his unease off with a dismissive snort.

“You understand how it works for females, correct? We aren’t entirely sure how some men came to have the same capabilities, to conceive and carry children, but the scientists I’ve spoken to have found clues pointing to the hormones that are added into processed foods, particularly dairy products…”

“So, what? Eating cheese will turn me into a chick?” Kagami scowled, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

"No, you will not be turning into anything _._ " Brushing off his denial with a wave of his hand, Kishima continued calmly, “Understand that this has been going on for many years; these are mutations that have been passed down through generations, and it is not that simple. It’s still unusual, but it is actually becoming a more common occurrence, even some celebrities I’m sure you know were born to two male parents.”

“Then why hasn’t it been on the news and stuff?” Kagami challenged, “With all the publicity...nothing stays secret for long anymore.”

“There is an organization in charge of keeping those who are aware of the phenomenon quiet, called the MMPA...the Male Mothers Protection Association. It’s not a perfect system, and there have been a few issues the media passed off as practical jokes or the raving of mental patients, but it’s all in place to protect the children of male mothers, and of course…” he raised an eyebrow at Kagami, “The mothers themselves.”

Kagami wrinkled his nose, “Ew, don’t say that when looking at me like that. There’s no way in hell I’m some kind of -”

“So tell me,” Kishima interjected, “How long has the morning sickness been going on?”

“Excuse me?” Kagami asked blankly.

“I’ve been told of the nausea and vomiting you’ve experienced...was this morning the first time?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Kagami averted his gaze and mumbled very quietly, “No.”

“I beg your pardon? I may have to ask you to speak up.”

Looking at the doctor head-on angrily, Kagami spoke louder, “No, it wasn’t the first time. But that doesn’t mean -”

“And have you been urinating more frequently than normal? Any discomfort or stiffness around your pelvic area?”

“What does it matter?” Kagami snapped.

Nodding to himself, Kishima consulted his clipboard for a moment before saying simply, “That’s what I thought.”

A chill crawled down Kagami’s spine, and though he tried to tell himself it was because the air in the room was way too freaking cold, part of him acknowledged that first real flicker of fear...that first real inkling that maybe this strange man was telling him the truth.

“...Where do you fit into all of this nonsense?” he asked cautiously, trying to keep up his front of disdain and hostility, but it was cracking, “You’re not an ordinary doctor, are you?”

Kishima gave him a small, gentle smile, “No, I’m not what you would call an ordinary doctor. And as for where I fit in...it strikes a rather personal chord with me; both of my parents were men. My mother...passed away shortly after my birth, and I’m here in his honor, to see if I can keep it from happening to anyone else.”

Unsure what to do with the piece of life-story he hadn’t asked for, Kagami decided to channel his frustration into another jab, “Is that why you’ve got such freaky hair?” _I mean...this guy is pushing Generation of Miracles with that eyesore of a do._

To his surprise, Kishima nodded absently, “Actually, yes. A couple, ah….I’m not sure you would call them ‘deformities’ seem to have cropped up in the children of male pregnancies. Unusual height and odd hair colors seem to be the most common.”

Kagami tried to scornfully disregard this tidbit of information, but his mind automatically leapt to Aomine’s striking navy hair, or Kuroko’s pale blue locks...was it possible that they, or other members of the Generation of Miracles….? _No way. No way in hell._

The doctor beside him must have seen the look of disbelief flash across his face, because he tilted his head slightly, “Do you believe me now?”

Kagami just grunted, not looking at his current company.

“I can tell you some things that will be beneficial to you in the next few weeks and months, if you would like to hear them?” Kishima pressed.

Sighing, Kagami tipped his head back and looked at the tile ceiling above him. On the one hand, it still sounded preposterous, and ridiculous, and no one was ever going to believe him, and Aomine was going to kill him, and _goddammit he was supposed to be telling himself how impossible it was, not worrying about the consequences!_ ...On the other...on the off chance this guy was right, slim as that might have been...he acknowledged that he really only had one option at this point.

“...I’m listening.”

TBC

 


	4. Chapter 4

Kagami’s head was still spinning when he left Doctor Kishima behind and joined Aomine in the waiting room. This time, though, it wasn’t due to smacking it against solid concrete. The doctor’s words hung heavily in his mind like a fog, and he wasn’t sure anymore if he was angry, confused, or downright terrified.

“So what did the doc say?” Aomine asked lazily, getting up from his chair and roving his piercing eyes over the line of stitches on Kagami’s forehead, “You gonna live?”

Kagami felt a prickle of nerves as he approached him, wringing his hands together, “He said I’m fine, but…”

Relief flickered in Aomine’s gaze, his whole expression seeming to open up as the tension left his face, “So it was just a stomach bug after all. Well, that’s that, now -”

He’d turned to walk toward the door, but - after calling himself ten kinds of fool for hesitating so long - Kagami spoke up to stop him, voice wobbling, “A-Aomine?”

“Yeah?” Aomine paused and glanced back at him.

Kagami could feel the words rising in his throat like bile, unable to swallow them down, and his lips felt numb as he murmured, just loud enough for the other to hear, “...I’m pregnant.”

Aomine looked at him strangely for a few seconds, and then gave a lopsided smirk, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Very funny. Now seriously, let’s go before this place turns me into a fucking germophobe. Satsuki said she’ll be picking us up in about ten.”

Kagami didn’t say anything, and when he took a step towards his rival, his legs shook and he stumbled before catching his balance ungracefully.

“Kagami? Hey, do you need to sit down? Don’t go face-planting into the ground on me again…” Aomine’s voice sounded strangely far away, and his words didn’t make a lot of sense, but Kagami just shook his head slowly, bracing a hand against the pasty white wall beside him. His other hand went tentatively to his own midriff, as if he would find evidence of what the doctor had told him and later proved to him there...what he was gradually starting to doubt was the complete and total nonsense he had insisted it was.

When he lifted his head, he found himself looking directly into a pair of compelling midnight eyes, searching his face with confusion and worry that seemed out of place in their usually cocky, snarkily glittering depths.

“What’s wrong? Do you feel sick still? If that lazy-ass doctor lied to you, I swear to God -”

Making use of his attention being firmly on him, Kagami’s hands lifted to Aomine’s shoulders to hold him still, earning him a rather perturbed, uncomfortable glance.

“Aomine, I’m serious. I didn’t believe it either until a minute ago, but...I think it's true...I-I’m really pregnant.”

Aomine continued to look at him, aghast, for a long moment, before his clenched jaw seemed to come unhinged, “But -”

“I know it sounds impossible,” Kagami muttered, dropping his gaze, “And hell, part of me is still convinced it is, but...that’s how it is.”

For another count of seconds, Aomine was struck silent, and then his eyebrows slowly drew together, “But you’re a guy.”

Kagami sighed, and flicked him in the forehead, “Really, dumbass? I had no idea,” he drawled sarcastically, “Look, I’ll explain more later, but first let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Right, yeah....” Rubbing his offended forehead with a scowl, Aomine seemed conflicted about following him, as they traipsed through the exit; he kept shooting him glances out of the corners of his narrow eyes, as if concerned  for his sanity. Kagami supposed he could understand that.

He could not have arranged a more awkward car ride if he tried. Aomine didn’t speak to him, didn’t look at him, and just gazed out the window at the streetlights passing by, seeming at turns frustrated, shell-shocked, and lost in thought. He didn’t even respond to Momoi’s attempts to start conversation, and eventually she gave up trying and just focused on the road, shooting occasional glances at Kagami through the rear-view mirror. When they arrived back at the dorm, and Kagami got out of the car, Aomine didn’t follow. Crossing over to his side, he waited expectantly until Aomine rolled the window down.

“...Is it too weird?” Kagami prompted uncertainly, “Too much?”

Aomine sighed, and graced him with an unreadable look, “Yeah...yeah a bit,” he said dully, “Just...gimme some space for a little while, alright Bakagami?”

Kagami faltered, and then nodded, automatically taking a step back, “Sure. ...How long?”

Aomine’s shoulders hunched in a taut shrug, “A day or two. I just need to think.” He didn’t give Kagami time to respond, and rolled the window back up. A moment later Momoi drove them away, leaving Kagami alone on the curb, without even the faintest idea what he should do.

.

 

.

Satsuki’s house was exactly as he remembered; bright, open, and smelling faintly of jasmine and sandalwood. Aomine barely spared the place a glance, as he slipped out of his shoes and promptly collapsed on her couch.

“Really, Dai-chan,” Satsuki sighed exasperatedly, “Want to explain exactly why you invited yourself over to my house?”

“I need a break.” Aomine mumbled into the cushion pressed to his face.

Satsuki still heard him, and he could just picture her propping her hands on her hips and pouting, “A break from what? School? Seeing your own messes everywhere? ...Kagamin?”

That last one was added hesitantly, but with a knowing edge Aomine didn’t like. Sitting up stiffly, he gave her a glare that should have communicated how unimpressed he was.

“Is something up with the two of you?” Satsuki prodded, “You hardly spoke to each other back there, did something happen?”

“Mind your own business, Satsuki,” Aomine grumbled, and then scratched his stomach when it gave a loud rumble, “Fuck, I’m starved; you got anything to eat?”

Even sating his hunger failed to take his mind off of what Kagami had said. Part of him was contemplating checking the idiot into a mental hospital, right after he’d gotten out of a physical one, because his head had surely gotten scrambled when he’d introduced it violently to the pavement earlier today. The rest of him, however, kept niggling and reminding him that he’d never heard his snappish, sarcastic rival look and sound so dead-serious. There had even been fear, in those expressive chestnut eyes, and that was an emotion Aomine didn’t think he’d ever seen him show before. He kept getting into mental arguments with himself, as he moved the food Satsuki had given him - but hadn’t made herself, thankfully - about with his chopsticks.

_What if it’s true, though? What if he really is -?_

_Shut up, do you even hear yourself?_

_But what if…?_

_‘What if’ nothing. It’s fucking impossible._

_Stranger things have happened, and he looked like he was scared shitless by whatever that doctor showed him._

_Doctors are wrong all the time. There’s just no way._

_But -_

And it went on like that for some time, until his fragile patience snapped and he got tired of driving himself in circles. Pushing his plate away and getting up abruptly from the table, he stormed away from a very confused Satsuki, who of course called after him.

“Dai-chan? Where are you going?”

“I need some air,” he said shortly, putting up every effort not the slam the door behind him as he left. It still sounded much too loud.

Taking a deep breath of the humid night air, he let it out on a low sigh and leaned against the house, squinting up at the porch lights until he had to look away. Gradually, though he hated it and wished he could make it go away, he found that he had to face that Kagami must have been telling the truth. What reason would he have had to lie? It was still insane, and he was still definitely going to tear the bastard a new one if it turned out he was wrong - ...actually, he’d probably do that anyway - but massive crime against the laws of nature aside, it seemed, for all intents and purposes, that Kagami really was pregnant. And that meant…

_….Well, fuck._

On an impulse, he slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone, but hesitated when he realized he didn’t know who he intended to call. Kagami came to mind first, but he shoved the thought away, much as he felt an irritating tug of guilt thinking of his friend all alone in their dorm room, believing Aomine thought he was out of his mind. He didn’t know what he would say to him, and even if his voice would be comforting - which felt strange to admit to himself; when had that become true? - he wasn’t ready to face it yet.

Tetsu, then? He’d gotten Aomine out of a lot of messes before; he always seemed to know how to calm him down when he was worked up, and make things seem like they weren’t so bad...but he’d probably be ticked off about Aomine calling so late at night, and Aomine didn’t know if he wanted to drag him into this just yet...or at all.

Feeling stupid, like a little child calling for help, he ruefully punched in a number and brought the device up to his ear, listening to the tone as it rang. Once, twice, three times, and then there came a muffled click.

“Daiki? What’re you doing calling this late?” a gruff voice as familiar as home asked.

Aomine hesitated, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, and then spoke more tremulously than he would have liked to admit, “Hey, uh...Dad, can I talk to you?”

There was a pause, and then his father replied, in a noticeably softer tone, “Yeah, I guess; is something wrong?”

“Th-there’s something I have to um...tell you, o-or ask you, or something,” Aomine stammered, hating how his words tumbled over each other, betraying his nerves and conflict, “See, I...I think I’m in trouble. It’s pretty bad.”

“What happened?” Oh, now his father’s voice was sharp with wariness, “Did you get in trouble with the police?”

Aomine was taken aback for a second or two, “Huh? No way, just listen -”

But his dad wasn’t listening, and just kept rattling off accusations, “Did you flunk out of school that fast?”

Okay, that one was actually pretty insulting, “No! I’m not _that_ stupid, but -”

He was interrupted again, and his father sounded unserious, almost mocking at this point, “What, did you knock someone up or something?”

Aomine said nothing, for much too long; robbed of response...and his heavy silence must have told the person listening on the other end everything.

“You...holy shit, Daiki, you _didn’t_.” When Aomine still didn’t respond, his father changed tone, but still sounded shocked and bordering on angry, “....You did?”

Aomine hated how small his voice sounded when he answered, “I...I think so.”

His father sighed explosively, and Aomine could hear how he was reining in his emotions when next he spoke, “Who is it?”

Aomine swallowed past whatever knot had settled in his throat, commanding his voice to remain steady, “My...my roommate, Kagami.”

He wondered if it was possible to hear someone else’s mind shut down, “Wait, but...that can’t be right; the same Kagami you played against and kept talking about back in high school?”

“That’s right.” _Here it comes…_

But his dad didn’t pounce on what he’d expected him to, “...You slept with another man?”

Blinking, though obviously the other couldn’t see it, Aomine decided to just give it to him straight and beg forgiveness later. “Yeah,” he said firmly...and then added, much quieter, “A lot.”

There was a sigh on the other end, not despairing so much as resigned, "So you're gay, after all?"

Aomine squirmed slightly, "Well...not exactly, I guess I sort of...swing all ways?" That still didn't seem like quite the right way to phrase it...

“But... Never mind. I will say one thing, though; you both should have considered the consequences before making any rash decisions.”

“I know,” Aomine sighed, but then the words sank in and he stiffened with surprise, “Hang on. You’re not that surprised that -? You almost sound like…” Suspicion flooded through him, and his voice turned steely, “What do you know about this?”

The reply was too quick, “Nothing. ...About what?”

“Dad. Tell me.” Aomine pressed.

“Tell you what? There’s nothing to tell -”

“You know something! What the hell is going on, I swear if you don’t -”

“That’s enough, Daiichi!” his father snapped, cutting him off.

Aomine froze, and it took several seconds to convince his mouth to work enough to speak, “....What did you say?”

“Look, it’s really late, you should -” his father muttered.

“No, what did you just call me?” Aomine insisted, shifting his phone unsteadily against his cheek.

“Daiki. I called you Daiki, of course.”

“No you didn’t. Who’s Daiichi?” Somehow, he couldn’t help but feel like he had found the edge of something big...something ugly...and whatever his father said, he wasn’t going to like it.

There was a long, low exhalation from the other end of the call, “Alright...I suppose you would have found out eventually.”

“Found what out? ...Have you been keeping something from me?”

He could imagine his father’s hand waving dismissively at him, telling him to shut up, “A long time ago, before you were born, I was...in a relationship with a man named Daiichi. He is your real father.”

And just like that, the world had suddenly turned upside-down, and Aomine's mouth opened and closed soundlessly as he tried to formulate a response, “....What?” was all he managed to get out.

“We were together for a few years, and very happy, but then...I found out I was pregnant with his son.”

 _What the_ _fuck…?_ Shoving away several disturbing mental images, Aomine staggered backward under the weight of the revelation, ending up sliding down the front door of Satsuki’s house to the ground.

“Daiki…? Are you still there?”

Fumbling with the phone in his hand, Aomine nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see it, “....Yeah, I’m here.”

“Daiichi left, when he found out, and I carried you on my own for nine months...I haven’t seen him since. You were...you were named for your father, Daiki, but you were never supposed to find out about him. So I got married to your mother, and she agreed to play the part of the woman who’d given birth to you.”

“Does she...know any of this?” Aomine asked dazedly, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears.

“No. She doesn’t know the whole truth. We got together when you were hardly a toddler, and she was willing to adopt you into her family and raise you as her son. That was all that mattered.”

Aomine wet his lips, still reeling and feeling like something in his mind had just been destroyed, “...So Dad, you’re….really my mom?” It sounded unbelievably weird and wrong to say out loud, and his father must have agreed, because he made a reproachful sound of disapproval.

“If I can ask one thing of you, Daiki… You don’t have to accept any of this, now that you know, and you’re much too young to have to decide if you’re ready to be a father or not...but please don’t do what Daiichi did. Don’t leave the mother of your child to deal with it alone.”

Aomine couldn’t think of a single thing to say except, “I don’t know…”

“At least tell your Kagami, then, that if he needs a helping hand or a listening ear, or just someone who’s been in the same position, he can always contact me.”

Aomine sighed, “Okay. ...Can I hang up now?”

“You may. ...I’m sorry, Daiki.” his father (mother...? _Nah, still too weird..._ ) murmured.

“For what?” he asked brittly.

“For not telling you the truth all these years. I was just trying to do what I thought was best for you.”

If his coarse, authoritative father spouted any more of this sappy bullshit, Aomine thought his head might spontaneously combust on his shoulders. “Yeah...I got it,” he said awkwardly, “Goodnight.” And he closed his phone with a snap before his dad could respond.

 _The whole world has gone fucking insane,_ he decided, slumping against the door he was sitting against. It was too much to deal with right now; too much to sort through and figure out, so after a moment of sitting there essentially in shock, he got shakily to his feet and went to tell Satsuki he was going to be on his way.

He’d call a cab, though. He couldn’t face her impossible questions on top of everything else right now.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Aomine returned much quicker than he’d said he would. That very same night, in fact, at about two in the morning, Kagami heard him trying to fit the key in the lock, jiggling it around before giving up and pounding on the door with his fist.

Kagami hadn’t known what to do with himself, with Aomine gone and so much riding on his mind that he didn’t want to think about. In the end he’d just sat down in front of the TV with a bowl of strawberries (the only thing he could think of eating that didn’t make him feel queasy) and put in an NBA recording to take his mind off the whole mess. It didn’t work completely, but the drumming of the ball, the squeaking of basketball shoes, and the carrying voice of the announcer were soothing, and he’d almost fallen asleep; eyes half-lidded and unfocused, when the sound of footsteps and keys jingling as they landed on the floor before being picked up jerked him out of his stupor.

Almost spilling the strawberries all over himself, he got to his feet and unlocked the door for his roommate, recoiling in surprise when he staggered unsteadily through it, a bitter cloud of alcohol following him in.

“What the - Aomine?” Kagami blinked, caught off guard by the state of his heavily intoxicated and slightly swaying rival, “What...are you doing back? You said you’d be gone for a day or two.”

“Shaddup, I know what I said,” Aomine mumbled, trying to look at him but instead fixing his feverish eyes on a spot a few centimeters to the left of his shoulder, “And I know what _I‘m_ doing here, I came to see that gorgeous ass of yours…”

Kagami’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t have time to respond to the bold declaration before his hand reflexively shot out, steadying Aomine as he lurched forward dangerously, “Alright, you need to sit your drunk ass down before you kill yourself,” he muttered, dragging him over to the bed and pushing him onto it. Aomine didn’t resist, and fell back with a vague, giddy laugh on the mattress, lifting his head to give Kagami a lopsided smile, and crooking a finger at him.

“C’mere,” he invited fuzzily, before frowning at somewhere in the vicinity of his own body, “Fuck, it’s too hot...I needa get out of these clothes…” His fingers worked at the fly of his jeans, but it seemed the advanced technology of a zipper was a bit too complicated for his addled brain to handle at the moment.

Sighing resignedly, Kagami sat down next to him and swatted his hands away from their task, “Here, let me help you with that.” Undoing the button and zipper, he pulled his rival’s jeans down to his ankles and discarded them, and then rolled his shirt up his chest and yanked it over his head, ignoring Aomine’s mumbled thanks. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Aomine drunk before, definitely not like this, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do with him, but he did acknowledge the reason so much alcohol must have been imbibed in the first place. Aomine must have come to the conclusion that Kagami had been telling the truth about his...condition. He wasn’t sure how to feel knowing that Aomine’s first response had been to numb himself to it, but then...he supposed he might have done something similar, if he was able and had the opportunity to put all this ridiculous conflicted emotion aside.

His hand that had been resting beside his rival after helping him undress scooted away when he noticed the telltale swelling beginning in Aomine’s boxers, which could only mean one thing. His eyes were closed, and his breathing had become a little unsteady, sharpening the air with the odor of beer and probably something stronger - though Kagami had no idea how he would have gotten ahold of it - when he exhaled.

“Bastard, what are you doing getting hard at a time like this -?” he began angrily, but then broke off as he reminded himself it was pointless trying to argue with someone under the influence. Exhausted and irritated, he flopped down beside his drunk roommate instead, glaring up at the ceiling as if it had personally insulted him.

After a moment, Aomine spoke again, but his voice was softer, and still muddled, his words running together a bit.

“So damn hot… Kagami…” he panted, “You’re fuckin’ awesome, you know that...?”

Feeling like the delirious words had set his face on fire, Kagami threw an arm over his eyes with a flustered groan, “Shut up, moron…”

“No really,” Aomine said, with about as much conviction as someone who’d practically drank their weight in alcohol could convey, “You’ve got those eyes and that face and that fiiiine ass…” His eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if he was trying to think of what else. “And you’re cute and funny and un-fucking-believable at basketball… And now, you’re gonna have my kid,” he added matter-of-factly.

He might have sounded matter-of-fact, but Kagami felt like the wind had been knocked out of him at the reminder. Absently, his hand drifted down to rest over his belly, wondering if a little combination of his own and Aomine’s cells was really growing ever-so-slowly in there. He still wasn’t sure how it could be possible, but it seemed - at least while his brain was swimming in booze - that Aomine had accepted it.

He flinched as he felt a large, warm hand join his own on his stomach, and when he glanced at Aomine he found the other’s slightly-clouded eyes resting on him waveringly.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Kagami…” he slurred, lacing their fingers together, “Promise.”

Kagami blinked, deciding not to follow his immediate inclination, which was to remove his hand from his rival’s grasp. Of course, he had to realize that Aomine probably had little or no idea what he was saying right now, and it was difficult to take him seriously with that goofy smile and the hard-on tenting his underwear, but in spite of that, he halfheartedly hoped that he at least kind of meant it. Whatever happened, however this worked out and whether it was all complete rubbish or not, he would have preferred if he didn’t have to handle it all by himself.

And maybe Aomine wasn’t the best choice for a person to face something so serious with, but...even when he was too wasted to stand up without wobbling, and even after his parting words earlier that evening, he _had_ come back. And - whether either of them liked it or not - he _had_ fathered their unborn child. Kagami supposed that, unless his roommate made a run for it, he was stuck with him...and he was surprisingly okay with that.

Shifting their clasped hands to Kagami’s chest, Aomine leaned up unsteadily and pressed a slow, if rather sloppy kiss to his parted lips, and Kagami was hit with the full force of the alcohol heavy on his breath, and his tongue, when it made its foray into his mouth. He was startled, but didn't resist as warm, firm, and rather sour lips moved against his own, leaning up to add his own pressure after a moment's hesitation.

Breaking away after a moment, Aomine trailed the tip of his nose absently down to Kagami’s chin, chuckling softly to himself.

“You taste like a freaking bar,” Kagami grumbled, disentangling their fingers so he could poke him in the forehead.

Aomine hummed, and rested his chin on Kagami’s chest, looking at him through half-mast, bleary eyes, “Hmm...you taste like strawberries…”

Gazing at his flushed face and slightly ruffled hair, Kagami had the absurd thought that the man sprawled practically on top of him, three sheets to the wind, was actually pretty cute.

“Think you can sleep some of this off, Ahomine?” he asked, unable to resist running his fingers through those short blue locks to see if they were as soft as they looked.

Shifting uncomfortably, Aomine grimaced and made a protesting sound rather like a whine, “Can’t sleep hard...” he complained, reaching down clumsily to adjust his boxers.

Aversely, Kagami glanced down; then he sighed and pushed his frustrated and very juiced rival off of him, “Lie back, I’ll take care of it.”

Aomine blinked disorientedly, and then eased onto his back, laying out every centimeter of glistening tan skin before Kagami, his erection jutting up proudly through the cloth barrier of his boxers.

“What’re you doing?” Aomine asked blurrily as Kagami settled between his thighs, slowly removing his underwear, allowing his hardened cock to nestle up against his trembling bronze abs.

“Shut up,” Kagami murmured, and ducked his head down, lightly tracing the thick length down to the base with his nose, inhaling the strong, musky scent that was purely Aomine. He felt Aomine shudder slightly, his legs parting to make more of a space for him, and he watched a bead of moisture well up from the tip of his erection a moment before he closed his lips around it, sliding it slowly into his mouth.

Aomine moaned shakily, and tried to lift his hips to drive himself deeper, until Kagami pinned them down, restricting his movement and telling him nonverbally not to rush him. He wasn’t sure he got the message across to his intoxicated company, as Aomine made a short, needy sound in his throat. Soothing him with a stroke from his tongue along the rigid flesh, Kagami touched just the tip of it to the leaking head, tracing the trail of saliva and pre-cum down before taking as much of the length as he could into his throat.

“Kagami…” Aomine slurred quietly, and Kagami saw his eyes flutter closed as he bobbed his head slowly, sucking on the warm, hard erection in his mouth.

As his confidence - and his assurance that he wasn’t going to choke - increased gradually, so did his pace, and he sucked and pulled at Aomine’s cock, bringing out breathless gasps and moans from him, only wincing as unsteady fingers snared in the hair at the back of his neck, pressing his head down further. He almost gagged, but bore with it as Aomine’s hand guided him up and down his shaft, his wavering sounds of pleasure growing more urgent as release neared. Slurping at the broad head, Kagami wrapped his hand around the base of Aomine’s arousal, pumping it strongly as he sealed his lips around the weeping tip again.

Aomine bore up sharply, all but shoving his cock down Kagami’s throat, “Fuck…” he panted, “I’m gonna -” he broke off with a strangled groan, and a stream of bitter liquid rushed into Kagami’s mouth, inciting him to pull away with an affronted noise, promptly hit in the face with another jet of sticky cum. Wiping the mess out of his eyes, he caught Aomine looking at him with almost dreamlike interest.

“Ah...that’s hot…” he mumbled distantly, and Kagami resisted the urge to smack him and add to the headache that would probably be greeting him soon enough. Getting up, he left for the bathroom to clean his face, and - for good measure - brushed his teeth once he got there. He returned with a washcloth in hand, and cleaned Aomine as well, as best he could, before pulling his boxers back up.

“Now go to sleep,” he muttered tiredly, dragging a blanket over him and crawling over to the other side of the bed, taking his spot by the window. Aomine was already snoring, knocked out cold by the alcohol and post-orgasm lull, by the time he lay down to put an end to this bizarre and very long day.

TBC

 


	6. Chapter 6

With a groan, Aomine gradually rejoined the world of the living, starting to squint his eyes open before he could realize what a horrible mistake it would be. Sunlight punctured between his eyelids like a thousand burning daggers, and he squeezed them shut again with a drawn-out sound of pain, rolling away from the window and covering his face with his hands. His head pounded angrily against the inside of his skull, and for a moment he just lay still, trying in vain to quell it.

“Aomine?” Kagami’s lowered voice sounded like a gunshot next to his ear, as if he’d shouted the question instead of murmuring it, and he grit his teeth together, struggling to sit up.

“Jesus, what the hell happened last night?” he managed, rubbing his knuckles into his temples slowly and slitting his eyes open again. It still hurt, but he didn’t immediately close them this time, attempting to focus his blurred vision.

“Well,” Kagami replied, voice still subdued, and still much louder than his ears could stand, “You got wasted off your ass, crawled back here at two in the morning, then I gave you head and you passed out.”

It was bizarre to hear him say that so bluntly, but even more bizarre to think that it might have actually happened like that. “Y-you what?” He stammered, “You really...damn, I wish I could’ve been there for that.”

Kagami sighed exasperatedly, “You _were_ there, moron.”

“Yeah but I wish I could _remember_ …”

He glanced at his roommate in time to see his bright crimson eyes blink once, “You don’t...remember anything at all?”

Aomine tried to, pushing his exhausted brain to think back to the night before, but either the hangover was scrambling his thoughts too much for him to focus at the current moment, or the alcohol had swallowed the memories entirely.

“I don’t...think so, it’s all kind of a big blur right now.”

He might have imagined it, but he thought a flicker of disappointment might have shown on Kagami’s face, and he might have slumped a little. Did something...good happen that night? Something he’d missed?

“M-maybe later I’ll remember it,” he hastened to say, trying to amend for disappointing Kagami. He didn’t know why it should matter -- for the life of him he couldn’t figure that out -- but it did. “I just really feel like crap right now.”

“Yeah,” Kagami sighed, lightly touching his own stitched-shut forehead and wincing, “Same here, Aho.”

“Oh....” Aomine said brilliantly, his unsteady gaze tracking from the recent injury to Kagami’s stomach, currently hidden by the dark blue sheets, “Right…I forgot…”

“Lucky you,” Kagami muttered shortly as he started to get up, not seeming to notice or mind that the movement caused the bed to jolt and quake and only exacerbated Aomine’s headache.

“Where are you going?” He asked blearily, lowering his hand from his aching temples to follow him with his eyes.

“We have class in half an hour, genius, if you don’t want to miss yours you should get the hell up.”

Aomine groaned again, leaning back on his elbows and seriously considering just lying back down and burying himself under the blankets. “How’m I supposed to go to class when my head’s pounding and I feel like I’m gonna throw up everywhere?”

Kagami braced his hands on his hips, shirtless and unsympathetic, and his tone was significantly harsher when he spoke, “Good question. Guess we’re both going to have to puzzle that one out, you’re not the only one who feels shitty. But the difference is, unlike you, I didn’t ask for this!”

“Lower your voice, for fuck's sake...” Aomine pleaded, gripping his pulsing forehead in his hands; then he frowned acerbically, “And you did too ask for this. Hell, you practically begged for it. We both did.”

“Why the hell would I ask for this?” Kagami snarled, not following his request to decrease the volume of his voice, which was getting dangerously close to shouting, “Why would anyone? I’m a fucking freak of nature, and it’s _your_ fucking _fault!_ ”

“God, would you stop bitching for a second?” Aomine grit out, shoving out of the bed and clenching his fists, “I didn’t do shit, nothing you didn’t tell me to do, anyway. It’s as much your fault that you’re in this mess as mine, I didn’t force anything on you! And if you can’t stand being around me knowing I knocked you up, then just tell me to leave!”

Kagami said nothing, and Aomine watched the color drain from his face, leaving only raw, conflicted emotion as he opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“Go ahead and kick me out, no one’s fucking stopping you,” Aomine pressed, burning with heightened anger that needed an outlet, and frustration that Kagami wasn’t giving him one, when he was the one who’d provoked it.

He only got a moment’s warning before all hell broke loose. Only got one silent second to see Kagami’s wide, furious eyes start to well up, before he burst into tears, hiding his eyes behind his hands, and ran from the room with a choked-out swear, slamming the bathroom door...leaving Aomine standing in a state of shock, almost unable to process what had just happened. He’d never seen Kagami cry. Never. Not even when his team lost devastatingly to Touou, not even when things seemed hopeless, not even when Tetsu and everyone else was breaking down; he just...didn’t do that. At least not in all the time Aomine had known him, though he himself had admittedly shed a few tears since knowing Kagami.

 _And I made him cry...just like that?_ Just by fighting back, just by spouting some shit he didn’t mean -- that Kagami must have _known_ he didn’t mean -- in an argument he hadn’t even started? They fought all the time, and Kagami had always been able to take everything he’d dished out in the past, especially if he was the one who had started it. What had changed?

 _….I’m such an idiot._ Yes, even he could admit that to himself from time to time, but it was so very obvious to him all of the sudden, he didn’t know how on Earth he had missed it. Kagami had taken several huge shocks to the system in only a day or so, and on top of that, it would have been no small wonder if his hormones were all out of whack with whatever the hell his body was doing trying to deal with what should have been a medical impossibility. Honestly, who wouldn’t be upset in his position?

Resting a hand against his throbbing head, he sighed and pushed the remaining irritation and outrage from the brief spat aside. Finishing what Kagami had started wasn’t what was important right now, and neither was salvaging his pride. Hesitantly, he padded over to the bathroom Kagami had shut himself inside -- the only place with a door in this room, actually. He raised a hand to knock, but stopped a moment when he heard the telltale, muffled sound of vomiting. Swallowing an unexpected surge of pity, he decided to forgo asking for entry and just opened the door, leaning against the frame and taking in the image of his roommate, on his knees in front of the toilet, wiping at his eyes and sniffling pitifully, presumably between bouts of puking. It took a second to notice he was shivering subtly too, still without a shirt and kneeling on the cold tile floor.

Remaining silent, Aomine stepped around him and snatched two clean towels from the rack, draping one over his shoulders and bracing his hands on them, attempting to steady Kagami, who looked over at him in surprise.

“Wha...what’re you --?” He didn’t get to finish the question, whipping his head back around and tensing, coughing wetly as his whole body shuddered, violently purging itself. Sighing, Aomine didn’t move from where he was, lightly rubbing his hands against Kagami’s shoulders and hoping the touch was comforting and not annoying.

After awhile there was a lull, and Kagami’s breathing seemed to become less ragged, his shoulders shaking less perceptibly, and Aomine broke the long silence tentatively.

“You done?”

“Sh-shut up,” Kagami muttered, but the retort lacked heat, and he gathered his feet under himself, “I th-think so.”

“Then here.” As he stood, Aomine handed him the second towel, which he accepted after a split-second’s surprise and gratefully used to wipe his forehead and mouth.

“Wh-what's your deal?” he stammered after a moment, a glint of suspicion coming into his reddened, puffy eyes.

“Whaddya mean?” Aomine blinked, taking a step back from him in alarm, “I was just --”

“You’re being...nice to me. All of the sudden.” Kagami’s tone was still wary, but there was an undertone of gratitude in it as well that he didn’t seem willing to show on his face.

“I -- of course, you...well, I mean you…” Floundering for words, Aomine scratched a hand through his own hair, looking away, “I...wanted to help.”

“Why?”

“Because I…” He swallowed, biting his tongue for a moment. _Because I did this to you...and because I...I care about you._ “Because....”

Kagami was quiet for a few seconds. “...I know,” he said eventually, striding past Aomine and tossing the balled-up, soiled towel in the laundry basket. “Thanks, Aho.”

“Forget about it,” Aomine said quickly, following him back over to the bed and joining him on the edge of it. A long, drawn-out moment of silence passed between them, neither meeting the other’s eye as they both ruminated on their own thoughts.

“We’re going to be late for class,” Aomine sighed at last, getting to his feet, “What do you --?”

“Aomine?” Kagami interrupted, looking up at him expectantly.

Aomine hesitated, “Yeah?”

He glimpsed a thousand beginnings of questions and concerns and emotions swelling in Kagami’s gaze, and braced himself, but in the end his roommate just shook his head and stood up, “Nothing.”

“Not nothing, what is it?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kagami insisted, throwing on a shirt and stepping into his pants, “We can talk later, okay?”

Not wanting to start another argument, Aomine just shrugged and started getting dressed as well. “Sure.”

If he didn’t get the feeling that their “talk” would decide both of their entire futures from here on out, he might have been significantly more at ease as he walked out the door.

TBC

 


	7. Chapter 7

Kagami had realized what a terrible mistake it would be, going to class on an empty stomach, but when he’d left the dorm this morning he didn’t think he could have choked anything down if his life depended on it. Still, as he sat in the lecture hall and stared blankly ahead, half-listening to the professor droning on about abstract quantities and hyperbolic counterparts, he could feel hunger gnawing at his insides, his stomach clamoring angrily to be fed and refusing to let him even try to focus on trigonometric functions until it was. If that wasn’t enough, he still felt feverish after the bout of sickness this morning, his shirt sticking to his trembling skin with sweat, his head throbbing dully against his temples. In short, he felt like utter shit, and he was only able to feebly comfort himself by remembering that Aomine was surely no better off. His day was going to suck just as much as Kagami’s was, and for some reason he took a twisted sort of satisfaction from that notion. And yet, there was the odd twinge of envy here and there, too. Kagami’s suffering wasn’t going to be alleviated with a square meal and a good night’s rest, at least not indefinitely...but Aomine’s could be.

Aomine had it so easy. He could walk away from the problems he’d helped create and the obligation to see the consequences through to the end at the drop of a hat. He was responsible for at least some of it, yes, but he didn’t have to take up that responsibility if he didn’t feel like it. No one was going to try and force him. He didn’t even have to _believe_ Kagami, and at the beginning, he hadn’t. There was no reason he couldn’t just go back to claiming Kagami had lost his mind and stay free and clear of the whole thing. Kagami himself had no such luxury. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Doctor Kishima had said to him: ‘ _Even if you refuse to believe it, you can’t make it disappear_.’ He couldn’t...but Aomine could, if he wanted to.

Some mix of heavy thought and insistent hunger had incited him to chew on the end of his pencil, like people did in the movies to help them focus, but his efforts earned him nothing but a mouth full of eraser shavings, and no clarity to speak of. He reflected that it was easy to blame Aomine for everything...so easy it was almost ridiculous. He’d shown up with his dumb face and his dumb basketball skills at the same college Kagami was attending, ended up as his fucking roommate, tried and succeeded at seducing him, somehow against the odds and the laws of nature got him pregnant, and caused him to almost crack his skull open, yesterday. ...But he couldn’t deny that he’d gotten his own damn self into this mess too. He’d known from the moment he stepped into his new dorm and ran into that bastard’s smug face that he was doomed, but he hadn’t listened to reason, and had assured himself that rooming with his idiotic high school rival couldn’t possibly be _that_ bad. But of course it could...in fact it could be that bad and much worse, as he was currently experiencing. He should have known.

.

 

.

Almost six grueling hours of boredom, starvation and exhaustion later, he was stumbling through the doors of the nearest Maji Burger, wallet already in hand and stomach roaring as a tantalizing wave of greasy, salty aromas made its way into his nose. Ordering a dozen burgers with a ravenous, nearly feral gleam in his eyes that might have actually frightened the cashier, he took a seat and got to work gobbling them down at breakneck speed, nearly choking more than once. He didn’t look up from his meal until the last crumb was gone, but when he finally did he was met with a pair of wide, indigo eyes staring with equal parts awe and disgust. Aomine, sitting across from him with a half-eaten burger in one hand -- one of only two that he had ordered -- had apparently stopped mid-chew to watch him wolf down the veritable pile of food that had now disappeared into his stomach.

“Holy shit, Kagami, where do you _put_ all that? Do you have a hollow leg or something?” he asked incredulously, gesturing to the crumpled wrappers strewn across the table.

“...What are you doing here?”

Aomine shrugged, “Same as you, I guess. I’m really fucking hungry, and this place is closest to campus.”

Kagami looked around; the Maji was mostly deserted, with plenty of empty booths. Yet Aomine had chosen to plop down right across from him, and he’d been too engrossed with devouring his food to notice.

Taking a thoughtful bite of his sandwich, Aomine dropped his gaze awkwardly to the table, then glanced out the window beside them, and he kept his gaze on the parking lot and the setting sun when he spoke again. “You said you wanted to talk, this morning…” He prompted casually.

“I don’t _want_ to,” Kagami corrected; he would rather have done almost anything other than sit down and have a serious heart-to-heart with Aomine of all people. Even having to listen one of Kuroko’s sappy speeches about friendship and teamwork sounded more enjoyable. He would even almost rather have gotten his teeth pulled. “But I think we have to...figure some stuff out. Important stuff...”

“Like if I’m going to run out on you because I knocked you up?” Aomine chimed in flatly, taking another bite.

Kagami sighed and dropped his head to rest in his hands, bracing his elbows against the table. “Yeah. Stuff like that.”

Aomine didn’t say anything for a long moment, continuing to gaze out the window and slowly, methodically finishing his first burger. He was unwrapping his second, still avoiding Kagami’s gaze, when the unbroken silence except for the sounds of chewing and swallowing became unbearable.

“So are you?” Kagami asked, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. He didn’t know if he could face this thing by himself -- hell, he didn’t know if he could face this thing _at all_ \-- but he wouldn’t have blamed Aomine for hitting the road while the getting was good. He was nineteen, they both were; he still had so many opportunities to have fun and get into trouble while he was young...mess around, make mistakes...play basketball all he wanted, graduate college with flying colors and join a professional team...maybe settle down with a nice girl and try for a family when he was finally ready to step up and be an adult. But he didn’t have to yet.

 _And I’m not going to have that choice._ It was sinking in for perhaps the first time; this would be the end of life as he knew it. The end of all the possibilities to do what he’d dreamed of in high school, the end of all his hard-earned potential to play the sport he loved for a living, and the end of his freedom. It was all going to slip from his grasp before he’d even had a chance to touch it. He took a deep breath to keep from breaking down as a sudden surge of hopelessness took him, and glanced back up at Aomine, who had remained silent.

“Say something,” he pressed, attempting to meet the dark blue gaze directed away from his own.

Finally Aomine looked at him, setting down his burger and folding his arms against the table. “...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Kagami echoed; of all responses he could have given, Aomine had chosen the one that was least helpful. Even a solid, remorseless ‘yes’ would have been easier to hear.

“Well, I mean…” Aomine scrambled to say, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck, “We aren’t even...we’re not dating, are we? We’re not really together --”

“We live together,” Kagami argued.

“But we’re not _together_ together,” Aomine said, averting his eyes once again, “We play basketball and fuck sometimes, but that’s not…”

“Yeah...I know,” Kagami muttered dejectedly, looking away as well and considering just getting up and going home. This was a bad idea, and was starting to make his head hurt again.

“B-but…” Now Aomine looked genuinely uncomfortable, nervously fidgeting in his seat and ducking his head away, “That doesn’t mean….doesn’t mean I don’t...y-you know…”

Kagami lifted his head, “What?”

Almost seeming to shrink in his seat, Aomine’s shoulders slumped and he lowered his head even further, and Kagami realized it was because he was trying to conceal a furious blush. “It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you,” he all but whispered, but Kagami’s ears had been straining to hear his answer, and caught every word.

He surprised himself by cracking a smile at that, feeling a little less awful. “Yeah?”

“And it doesn’t mean I don’t...l-like being around you…” He didn’t need to go and say that; Kagami could have gathered as much from him stating that he cared about him, and he was sure he was flushing just thinking about it. “And I do feel responsible for...for what happened to you...” Now Aomine’s words were coming faster, still flustered, tumbling over each other as he struggled to express his feelings -- something he had never appeared to be comfortable with, or skilled at. “Even if part of me still thinks it sounds like total bullshit and shouldn’t be possible, and part of me doesn’t want to think too hard about it or stick around to find out if it’s true or not, I don’t want you to be stuck dealing with it by yourself if it is, and I’m really sorry I --”

Leaning across the table, Kagami reached out and grabbed Aomine’s shirt-front, pulling him forward and swallowing the rest of his scrambled confession by pressing their lips together. After a second or two he released him, remembering they were in public, and gave him a tiny, teasing smirk. “Do you ever shut up?”

Aomine looked rather like he’d been slapped instead of kissed, eyes blown wide and mouth shaped in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise...though Kagami doubted he would be glowing beet red to the roots of his hair and suspiciously short of breath if that had been the case. Sitting back down slowly, he ran a hand through his navy bangs and let out an explosive sigh. “I think that might’ve...been the first time we’ve ever just kissed… Just by itself, I mean...”

“Yeah...yeah I guess so,” Kagami agreed hesitantly, returning to his seat as well.

“Damn...” Aomine swore softly, leaning his head back against the booth and closing his eyes.

Kagami blinked at him, confused, “What’s that?”

With a shaky laugh, Aomine’s features settled into a rather carefree, boyish grin, “Nothing, I...just feel a lot better now. Thanks.”

“Uh...y-you’re welcome, I guess,” Kagami shrugged, somewhat awkwardly.

For a count of several minutes, neither of them said a word, but it was a much more relaxed silence than the tense one before. Aomine returned to his dinner eventually, his complexion gradually seeming to return to normal. Kagami hoped his was doing the same, but he couldn’t get Aomine’s blissed-out grin, and what he’d decided to say, out of his mind. He’d felt a lot better too, not only after kissing him, but after hearing him explain how he felt, and even apologize.

“Hey...Kagami?” Aomine asked with his mouth full, only deciding to swallow after he’d spoken.

“Hm,” Kagami grunted noncommittally, with a good deal more calm than he’d felt since before yesterday, half-lost in thought.

“You know how I said we’re not.. _.together_ together?”

“Yeah.”

Aomine seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, and then blurted, “W-would you...like to fix that?”

That got his attention, and his gaze snapped to the blue one in surprise, “What? You...why would…?”

“I…” Aomine swallowed, and Kagami could have sworn he saw sweat break out on his forehead, “I r-really like you...and I _want_ to...to see this thing through with you, but...it's just a lot, and I...I dunno if I can promise it…”

Kagami sighed, “You did before…”

That seemed to bring Aomine up short, and he blinked, “I what?”

“You promised...last night, you said you wouldn’t leave me…” It was a ridiculous thing to bring up; he’d known Aomine must have had little or no idea what he was saying at the time, and the statement itself sounded pathetic even to his own ears.

Aomine opened his mouth, then closed it again, and looked away, drumming his fingers anxiously on the table between them, “K-Kagami, I was drunk, I didn’t...I wasn’t…”

“I know,” Kagami said hurriedly, attempting to recover his dignity.

“And I do want to stay with you...but I don’t think I can pr --”

“I know,” Kagami repeated, not really feeling like talking anymore, “It’s fine.”

There was another stretch of silence, much shorter this time, and Aomine fidgeted the entire time, guilt and uncertainty crossing and recrossing his face as a bead of sweat tracked from his forehead down his cheek and dripped off his chin.

“We should go,” Kagami suggested eventually, softly and without decisive emotion, “It’s getting late.”

Aomine nodded twice and pushed to his feet, but didn’t say a word or look his way as they both shuffled out the door and into the waiting twilight.

TBC

 


	8. Chapter 8

“For fuck’s sake, Kuroko, would you just _drop_ it?”

At the harsh, hostile words, his former “shadow” closed his mouth so fast Kagami almost heard his teeth click together, fastidiously adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder as the only sign that he was offended. “I did not realize I was antagonizing Kagami-kun,” he murmured, turning his piercing eyes away, “I apologize.”

Kagami sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, stopping at the edge of the sidewalk. Only when he opened his eyes again did he notice that Kuroko had halted as well, and was peering at him with deep, unwavering concern.

“I’m sorry,” Kagami supplied, almost involuntarily, at the prompting of those persuasive blue lasers, “I didn’t mean to snap at you, I’ve just...been under a lot of stress, lately.”

“I can see that,” Kuroko nodded simply, “I was merely inquiring as to why...I believe it may help if you talked about it.”

Kagami was already well aware that Kuroko’s solution to every problem in the world was honesty and open communication, but personally he didn’t agree. He didn’t think it was that simple, especially not in this case. Telling Kuroko what was so heavy on his mind wouldn’t erase his problems, make them any more bearable, or make him feel any better. And he didn’t dare to answer any of his prying questions, because he knew any one answer he gave would only lead to more interrogation. It didn’t help that he didn’t even know how much he was legally allowed to say, after signing that damn contract...which he probably should have at least partially looked over before doing so.

He had thought that spending some time with his best friend would help him relax; away from Aomine, away from the cramped dorm room and all the stressors that had been plaguing him over the last few days, but he couldn’t seem to shake them off, no matter what he did. A good deal of his current problems, he carried with him, after all.

“Can I ask you something, Kagami-kun?” Kuroko asked after a moment, looking up as the light changed, before starting to cross the street, keeping his gaze on the crosswalk under his feet, as if assuming Kagami would follow him. He did.

“I guess,” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t about to step blindly into one of Kuroko’s infamous booby traps.

“How long have you and Aomine-kun been together?”

Only the dwindling countdown of the crossing light kept Kagami from freezing in his tracks in the middle of the street. He did, however, wait until he was on the opposite curb to answer. “We...we’re not. Together, we just…”

“Aren’t you?” Kuroko asked, glancing back up at him inscrutably, “You live together, you spend almost every waking moment together, and I have witnessed the aura that hangs between the two of you. There is most definitely something deeper there than your old rivalry, or simply tolerance as roommates.”

Kagami averted his gaze, silently, vehemently cursing his perceptiveness, and the fact that his silence was only serving as affirmation for everything he said.

“So...how long has that been the case?” Kuroko prodded gently.

Gently or not, Kagami still wanted to hit him over the head for butting into his personal life and pestering him with all these questions. He had hardly stopped asking since he’d stepped out with him tonight.

He swallowed, “About four weeks.” He didn’t want to make the correlation, even in his mind, to what else had been going on during that time...which, until recently, he had been completely oblivious to.

“Is Aomine-kun the cause of the stress you’ve been under?” Kuroko asked after a moment, cool and deadpan as always.

Kagami was about a second away from saying yes. And hell, it would have been the truth, for the most part. But while it was true that if it weren’t for Aomine, he wouldn’t have been in this mess, that didn’t necessarily mean it was his entire fault.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, and decided to stick with silence. It wasn’t exactly doing him any favors, but it was keeping him at least remotely level-headed, instead of on the verge of spilling everything to Kuroko, including a few things he hadn’t even admitted to Aomine, or himself. As confidants went, Kuroko was a good choice; he was honest and loyal, had a strong moral compass and was hardly ever judgmental...but that might not have held true in every situation, and Kagami didn’t want to run the risk of driving him away...as he suspected he might if he were to enlighten him to the full extents of this mess.

“...Or is he a symptom of it?” Kuroko interrupted his line of thought, insistence turning his gaze, but not his voice, hard and unyielding.

“You’re doing it again,” Kagami muttered, keeping his gaze on his own shoes, as he mindlessly placed one in front of the other, “I don’t want to talk about Aomine; I came out here to get away from him.”

Kuroko hummed thoughtfully, without evident decisive emotion, “I thought it was because we hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Though I can understand your sentiment as well; there are times I do believe Aomine-kun is best taken in small doses.”

They passed by a brightly lit street court, and Kuroko turned and stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “He can be rather intense,” he went on, in an almost distant undertone, “But then, so can you, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami started to move around him and continue on to the court, and Kuroko didn’t do anything to stop him, but he did speak up again, without turning around, “If something about Aomine-kun is troubling you, wouldn’t it be better to speak of it here, when he is not present?”

Kagami stopped, and hung his head with an explosive sigh after a second’s hesitation, recognizing ruefully that he was giving up. _Damn you, Kuroko…_

“Fine. You win,” he grit out, stepping back to lean against the chain-link fence, crossing his arms over his midsection. Kuroko’s eyes flashed with a barely-concealed spark of triumph, and he joined him after a moment, facing him expectantly.

Despite his reluctant acceptance to tell Kuroko what was bothering him, for a long moment Kagami didn’t say anything, absently studying the weeds growing out of the cracks in the sidewalk, and the multitude of faint skid marks from cyclists that had stopped to park their bikes outside the court. He tried to sort his words out in his head beforehand -- something that had never been his strong suit -- and figure out what was safe to say. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Kuroko...that wasn’t why he hesitated...he was only afraid of digging his grave any deeper than it already was, making this mess that was already so difficult and almost impossible to bear even worse.

Despite his best efforts, when he did try to speak and phrase what he had to say delicately, the plain, hard truth dropped heavily onto the tip of his tongue, and it had already left his mouth before he had a chance to reel it back.

“Aomine got me pregnant.”

_Shit -- I didn’t mean...he’s going to think I’m insane, why did I…?_

Kuroko’s eyes widened considerably, and his mouth dropped open, as Kagami had predicted, but after that mere split-second of shock, a deeply contemplative look settled on his face, and he templed his fingers against his lips.

“I see…” he murmured, seeming to be halfway talking to himself, “...That is quite a conundrum.”

 _“‘C-conundrum’?_ ” Kagami sputtered loudly, taken aback almost to the point of blind hysteria, “What are you saying? You...how can you believe me, just like that? It shouldn’t even be _possible -_ -!”

Kuroko looked up at him, “You are not a liar, Kagami-kun,” he interrupted, simply and firmly, “I do not believe you would make something like that up, for any reason. ...And aside from that…” he faltered a moment, before giving Kagami a tiny, empathetic smile, “I may understand more than you think.”

“You...what?” Now Kagami was at a complete loss, but it almost sounded like… No, that was ridiculous, there was no way…

“I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my family, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said, his calm smile persisting, “If you had, it would be rather obvious, I think.”

“...What would be obvious?” Kagami asked blankly, all but running on autopilot in the wake of his disbelief.

“You see, I live with a family unit that includes three parents,” Kuroko explained, holding his gaze, “My father, my surrogate mother, and my true mother, who poses in public as an uncle, and who happens to be male.”

“But --” Kagami couldn’t get anything else out, floundering like a fish out of water, and after a moment, he remembered to breathe.

“It’s alright if you don’t believe me,” Kuroko shrugged, “But considering…your own circumstances, I think it would behoove you to take my word for it, as I am taking yours.”

Kagami supposed he couldn’t argue with that logic. To call Kuroko crazy or a liar would be rather hypocritical of him at best, and detrimental to his chances of gaining any insight into his absurd situation, which he wasn’t sure he _wanted_ , but that Kuroko could possibly provide nonetheless.

“So you are carrying Aomine-kun’s child,” Kuroko went on, frowning to himself, “Or what will become Aomine-kun’s child. ….Does Aomine-kun know?”

Kagami sighed, “Yes. ...Though he did take some convincing.”

“I’d imagine,” Kuroko nodded, his slender, pale blue eyebrows furrowing over deeply brooding eyes, “I’d also imagine he didn’t take it very well. And yet he is sticking with you?”

Was it that surprising, even to Kuroko? “For now…” Kagami said hesitantly, “He doesn’t...seem to have a plan right now, I think he’s still kind of in denial.” He huffed a humorless laugh to himself, “Come to think of it, I might be too.”

Kuroko inclined his head again, wetting his lips somewhat anxiously, “Until either of you see solid proof, it likely will remain that way. With both of your simple, straightforward personalities, you need to see something with your own eyes in order to verify it.”

“Don’t call me _simple_ , you little asshole,” Kagami growled, reaching out and digging the heel of his palm into Kuroko’s forehead, mussing up his hair.

“But it is true,” Kuroko protested, wincing and quickly ducking out of reach, “You and Aomine-kun are both fairly uncomplicated, predictable creatures. It’s not difficult to see how you will handle certain situations, based on your previous behavior. For instance...despite everything, despite knowing what hardship and suffering may be lying in store for you, I think it’s safe to say that you will go through with this pregnancy, even if you are presented with the opportunity to terminate it.”

“Oh yeah?” Kagami challenged, “Why’s that?”

Kuroko didn’t even blink, “Because you are stubborn, Kagami-kun...you don’t give up or back out easily; you are fiercely loyal, to a fault -- to people, even to _potential_ people -- and you care greatly for preserving life.”

Kagami dropped his gaze, unsure why Kuroko’s words had incited his cheeks to heat up, embarrassment and an odd sense of pride sweeping over him. He took a moment to regain his composure, and then looked at his friend again. “And Aomine?”

This time Kuroko paused a moment, taking his lower lip between his teeth and shifting his weight. “Aomine-kun...is also very stubborn…” he began tentatively, before trailing off.

Kagami’s throat closed for a second, and he resisted an urge to fidget with unease. “But…?” He sensed that he wasn’t going to like what he heard. Otherwise Kuroko wouldn’t have hesitated.

Kuroko turned his head away, “H-he is also impulsive and terribly reckless, and feels threatened by commitment and restriction. It is one of the greatest differences between you. When coerced or cornered, you will stand and fight...but Aomine-kun will not. He will withdraw into himself, or retreat entirely if he is given the chance.”

Kagami lowered his head, trying unsuccessfully to swallow around the thick, uncomfortable knot that had formed in his throat. He didn’t know why it mattered, but Kuroko’s analysis caused something inside him to clench with unease, and maybe fear that he was right. It was very rare that he was mistaken in his judgment of a person’s character, and he had known Aomine for a very long time. Long enough to understand him and start to see patterns.

“He has done it before,” Kuroko added morosely, still refusing to meet Kagami’s eye, which was rather unusual for him. “But that’s not to say that he will abandon you because of this. I am...not certain of that, because he too is loyal. He too cares greatly for people and living things.” Abruptly, he did look at Kagami, and Kagami was surprised to see his eyes were now blazing with fervor, “But I must warn you, Kagami-kun, not to push him any more than absolutely necessary, during this trial that will already be putting enormous strain on the both of you. If he panics and starts to withdraw, applying pressure will only drive him further away.”

Kagami thought back to two days ago, when he had first told Aomine what had happened, what he believed was the truth, and how Aomine had almost immediately asked for space, and left him to deal with his thoughts and burgeoning fears on his own.

But...he _had_ come back. Relatively quickly. True, he had disappeared for several hours and only returned after practically drowning himself in alcohol, but he had come back. Kagami didn’t know what had happened in the time he was gone, what revelation had caused him to accept what he’d been told and return, but it was enough that he had. Enough for Kagami to believe that even if Kuroko was right, even it turned out Aomine was overwhelmed and withdrew, it might not be for good.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Still having a bit of a hard time sitting down and writing in large chunks, but I am trying to keep updating the stories that most need my attention...especially ones like this where I do have a plan of action, an interest in continuing the story, and people that want to see it continued.  
> So, bear with me, I’m trying to get back in a writing groove, and this story is a good candidate for that; every time I finish a chapter I’m itching to start the next one, and that’s a good sign.  
> Reviews give me life! Feed the author!  
> Shinsun))


	9. Chapter 9

Kagami drove the ball against the pavement again, wiping his free hand across his forehead to clear away the sweat that had dripped into his eyes. His breathing was rough, and so was Kuroko’s, both of their shirts darkened and sticking to their skin with perspiration, illuminated by the amber streetlights overhead that crisscrossed the court with tangled, gridded shadows from the chain link fence surrounding it. The friendly game was in his favor, at the moment, and after over half an hour of battling his “shadow” for one more basket, one more dunk, a few more points to secure his victory, Kagami was about ready to call it a night, in consideration of how ridiculously early he was going to have to wake up for class in the morning.

There was something liberating, though, in the simple pleasure of the game. In the familiar song of rubber and concrete, and the soothing, whispering _swish_ of the net, seeming to blot out the world and make everything but the ball in his grasp and the hoop within his reach seem of such trivial importance. For the first time in two days, he felt relaxed, free, without a care in the world, and he didn’t want it to end.

Kuroko had stopped, however, bracing his hands against his knees as he panted, holding one finger up after a moment, as if about to make a point. “I think...that will be all tonight, Kagami-kun,” he managed, lifting the collar of the shirt to swipe against his sweat-streaked cheek.

“Oh? Had enough already?” Kagami teased, grinning, as he leisurely dribbled over to him before tucking the ball under one arm.

“For now,” Kuroko said primly, standing straight and smoothing wrinkles from his shirt, as his chest still heaved for air unevenly, “Rest assured, there will be a rematch, and then I will not go so easy on you.”

“‘Course you won’t,” Kagami laughed, holding the basketball out to him, waiting for him to take it.

He did, and after a second or two, he dropped his intent blue gaze from Kagami’s face to study the ruddy, dimpled surface of the ball, turning it over in his hands with a detached air of distress.

Kagami noticed the deeply contemplative frown crossing his face,  “...What?”

Looking up quickly, Kuroko plastered on a smile and shook his head, “Nothing. Thank you for the game, Kagami-kun, and congratulations on your victory.”

He looked like there was more he wanted to say, but he simply turned away from Kagami to gather his things, busying himself so he wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. And he was silent for most of their walk back to the dorm, save a few polite snippets of idle conversation, leaving Kagami to puzzle out on his own what had caused him to look so troubled.

.

 

.

Aomine hadn’t thought it was possible for him to feel any more twisted up in knots, but here he was. On his one day off in the middle of the week, the one day when even Kagami hadn’t been underfoot -- he’d been summoned by Tetsu, and both of them had been gone for much of the afternoon, leaving him with the time to himself to potentially relax and clear his head for just a moment -- of course he hadn’t been allowed to take the opportunity. He’d gotten a concerned call from Satsuki, asking if they could meet up and talk face to face. It couldn’t have been anything good, he knew, but refusing would only mean more trouble for him, if he knew her half as well as he thought he did. She would just keep prying and being all nosy and suspicious until she got to the bottom of whatever it was she was trying to figure out.

It didn’t help either that his phone had been blowing up almost all day with calls from his father -- or...mother, supposedly, though that was still terribly uncomfortable and freaky to think about -- all of which he’d let go to voicemail. He’d handle _that_ particular gaping can of worms later, when he wasn’t already backed up against a wall with Satsuki and Kagami both trying to corner him and pin him down. At least the latter had left him alone today, for the most part, and given him some space...it was likely they could both use it. The same could not be said of his dear old childhood friend.

A friend who had pounced on him almost immediately the moment he was within earshot, dragging him over to the bench she had been sitting on, at the edge of park they’d both agreed to meet at. Some more grudgingly and forcibly than others.

“What has been going on, Dai-chan?” she demanded, “First I pick you and Kagamin up from the _hospital_ and you don’t tell me a thing about how you ended up there, then you ditch him and crash at my place before ditching me too, and then you’re silent for almost two days and won’t answer any of my texts?”

“I’ve been busy,” Aomine muttered dismissively, sitting down heavily and letting his hands hang between his knees.

She looked at him disapprovingly, flicking a lock of pink hair over her shoulder, “Don’t give me that. I know you, Dai-chan, you haven’t been busy one day of your entire life.”

“I _have_ been,” Aomine insisted, jerking his head away to avoid her scrutinous, too-knowing eyes. He fixated instead on the deserted swingset across the park, casting long black shadows as it was lit from behind by the setting sun, “Stay the hell out of my business, Satsuki.”

She tsked, and slowly came over to join him on the bench, seeking his gaze, which he refused to give, closing his eyes frustratedly when looking away failed to dissuade her from trying. “Dai-chan...what’s wrong?”

The gently worried question pulled a long, deep sigh from him, and he hung his head almost low enough to bump his chin on his chest. “Nothing,” he said dully, already realizing the effort was futile.

“Something happened, in the last few days,” she pressed, lightly placing a hand on his knee, in what he supposed she thought was a comforting gesture, “Something that’s not sitting well with you; I can practically hear you running yourself in circles, don’t try to keep it from me.”

Pushing her hand away irritably, Aomine resisted an urge to cover his eyes and hide his face, not wanting to appear vulnerable to her. He grit his teeth together instead, “Stop it. Just leave me alone.”

“You know I can’t do that...I’ve never been able to, when I know you’re upset.”

A moment of silence fell, recalling every time she’d pursued him when he tried to slink away, to the rooftop of his old school, to a hallway or a stairwell, or his room; anywhere he thought he would be momentarily safe from his problems. Anywhere he could regroup before facing them again, or continuing to evade them.

“Is this what you called me out here for, then?” Aomine snapped, clenching his hands against his own knees, “Can’t fucking stand not knowing what the big, hush-hush secret is, so you have to push and pry and be an all-around pain in the ass until you get your way?” He glared at her, almost shaking with fury. “There is no secret, Satsuki. Nothing happened.” With that, he shoved to his feet, mentally berating himself for agreeing to come and wasting his time, and seriously considering just turning and leaving without another word.

“You’ve always been a terrible liar, Dai-chan,” Satsuki said quietly, and when Aomine whipped around, he saw her looking forlornly down at her own hands, clasped in her lap and absently toying with each other.

Squaring his stance, he gathered himself to leave again, but couldn’t quite convince his legs to move. “Why do you care?” he challenged instead, baring his teeth, “What’s it to you if I’m upset or not? I’m not your _problem_  anymore!”

She looked up at him, seeming taken aback, “Yes you are, I still...Dai-chan, of course I still care what happens to you! That doesn’t change just because we’re not in school together anymore, I’ve _always_ looked out for you…”

He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, solid and resolute, “You don’t have to keep pretending to be my mother, Satsuki, I’ve already got one.” _Maybe two…_ Shoving the thought aside angrily, he blew some air out through his nose, irritated that his mind would even go there right now.

Satsuki studied him for a long moment, a dent of worry between her carefully plucked eyebrows, furrowed over anxious, pleading eyes. “Dai-chan…? Please...sit down and talk to me? Even when you got angry and frustrated before, you’d still at least tell me what was wrong…”

Usually accompanied by shouting or swearing, or both, but he supposed he did have a trend of being most honest with her. It was hard not to be, when she was so persistent and good at digging out information; there came a point when it was just too much of a struggle, too much of a useless effort, to keep arguing with her.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, he reluctantly backtracked and sat back down beside her, running a resigned hand through his hair and scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know why I even put up with you…”

“You don’t have a choice,” Satsuki said simply, with a gentle hint of teasing, seeming glad that he’d rejoined her, albeit somewhat against his will or better judgment.

Neither of them said anything for a few moments, as they watched the sun sinking below the horizon, fading the sky from orange to purple to dark, navy blue slowly. A cold breeze swept through the park, lightly pushing the swings like invisible hands and rustling the grass and leaves. Aomine contained a shiver, but Satsuki didn’t, huddling her jacket closer to her body to guard against the cold. Hesitating a moment, he scooted a little closer to her, putting an arm around the back of the bench and hoping his body heat would help.

After she’d glanced at him, with surprise and then gratitude, and then dropped her gaze again, he let out a slower, much softer sigh. “...It’s my fault Kagami was in the hospital,” he admitted at last, looking down at his shoes, which bumped against each other self-consciously.

He didn’t look to see her expression, but he heard her suck in a breath, “What?”

Scratching his cheek with his free hand, Aomine lowered his head again, “He was sick, but I asked him to play against me anyway, and kept pushing and pushing...I didn’t even notice that he only wasn’t keeping up because he _couldn’t_ , and he fell and cracked his stupid head open. He had to get fourteen stitches, all because I was an impatient dickhead and couldn’t tell that he still felt like crap.”

Satsuki was quiet for a moment, then leaned forward to try to meet his eye. “...That’s all? Dai-chan, it’s okay, you didn’t mean to --”

“No.” Aomine cut her off, taking in a slow, controlled breath. Satsuki blinked, and he gradually exhaled, “No, that’s not all.”

He didn’t follow the statement up with anything else, for over a minute, and he could practically sense Satsuki straining her ears and bubbling over with curiosity and concern at the incomplete declaration, and the way his voice had dropped at the end to little more than a gravelly, ashamed whisper.

“Dai-chan…?” she asked, eyes widening to see his own starting to well up, despite his attempts to stop the moisture from building, “...Daiki?”

He let out a breath that sounded rather like a shaky, rueful laugh, “Don’t you start…”

He supposed she was perfectly entitled to be confused by that, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to elaborate. If he uncovered the corner of that mess; if he told her the last person to call him that had dropped the bombshell of all bombshells on him and shook his world to the core, he would probably have an obligation to reveal everything else. Some of which wasn’t necessarily his to reveal.

So he shrugged and folded his arms again, removing her shield from the chill in favor of guarding himself, “....Do you ever wonder if nothing’s really impossible, Satsuki?”

She frowned then, and reached over to flick him sharply in the face.

“Ow! What was that for? Jeez…” Aomine complained, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” Despite his undeserved pain, Aomine almost laughed, because a moment ago she’d been trying to convince him of the opposite. “First you act like you’re so big and bad and have no emotions, and the next second you’re crying and spouting this philosophical sappy stuff?”

“I wasn’t _crying_ ,” Aomine argued immediately, still holding his hand to where she had flicked him, “Shit, that really hurt.”

“Tough,” Satsuki sniffed, unsympathetic, but after a moment of holding firm, she seemed to soften, and tilted her head to look him in the eye again, “...Are you okay, Dai-chan?”

“I _will_ be, but your nails are fucking sharp, get a manicure or someth --”

“Not about that,” she interrupted, exasperation coming into her otherwise concerned voice, “I meant...in general; you’ve been really…” she trailed off and sighed, cupping her cheek in her hand, elbow braced on one crossed knee, “You haven’t seemed like yourself, lately.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and shrugged again, unable to quite match the carelessness of the gesture when he spoke, “Sure...I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

Her gaze hardened, and she pursed her lips, “Truthfully?”

“Tch.” He got to his feet, reaching down to lightly push her forehead, “If you keep worrying so much, you’ll get wrinkles and your hair will start falling out.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he glanced up at the sky, where the first few stars were beginning to appear, “It’s getting dark. I should head back.”

“I’ll drive you,” she offered immediately, jumping up.

“I’m fine,” he reiterated over his shoulder, already starting down the sidewalk, “I need the time to think anyway.”

TBC

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Aomine had barely had time to sit down and take his shoes off before the door opened and Tetsu and Kagami stepped through. They didn’t seem to be in the middle of a conversation, but from the way they glanced at each other, then him, and then quickly looked away, he suspected that they had, at some point, been talking about him behind his back. He wasn’t even surprised.

_Everyone else is gossiping about me, what’s two more to add to the mix?_

“Hello, Aomine-kun,” Tetsu greeted him, inclining his head politely, “Did you enjoy the time to yourself this evening?”

Aomine decided not to dignify that with a response.

“Hm,” Kagami added, with a mild hint of ribbing, leaning a hand against the wall to slip his basketball shoes off, “Well the roof hasn’t caved in, so I’d say he behaved himself at least.”

“Oh fuck you,” Aomine growled under his breath.

Kagami blinked, seeming honestly surprised by that; then stood away from the wall and crossed his arms, his odd eyebrows snapping together with annoyance, “What’s your problem, asshole?”

Tetsu laid a placating hand on Kagami’s arm, fixing Aomine with his lucid, imperceptible gaze, “Aomine-kun, you do appear to be...rather tense, is something the matter?”

Getting to his feet jerkily for the sake of his height advantage, even if he only had two centimeters on Kagami, Aomine glowered at the both of them, “Nothing. Mind your own damn business.”

“Then stop being such a prick,” Kagami grumbled, before turning back to Tetsu, paying him no more mind, “You sure you’ll be alright taking the train in the dark?”

A tiny smile tilted up the corners of Tetsu’s mouth, “Of course...I’ll be fine, thank you Kagami-kun.”

“Then I’ll see you later,” Kagami smiled back, “Maybe next time all three of us can play a game.”

“I…” Tetsu began, seeming to falter a moment with uncertainty, his smile becoming rather strained, “...would like that.” Straightening, he raised a hand in a soft, passive wave, “Good night, Kagami-kun, Aomine-kun.”

A moment of silence fell, after the door clicked closed behind him. Kagami barely graced Aomine with a glance before turning his back, yanking off his sweat-dampened T-shirt before balling it up and tossing it into the laundry basket across the room.

“That was rude, you know,” he said after a moment, addressing the thick, tense air hanging in the room as much as Aomine, “Kuroko hasn’t seen you in months, you could have at least tried not to be an insensitive jackass in front of him.”

“ _Insensitive_ \--?” Aomine snarled, before breaking off with a fed-up sigh, “Whatever. He probably didn’t even notice.”

Kagami turned to look at him then, narrow chestnut eyes accusing, “You’re wrong about that. You know how Kuroko is, how he picks up every little detail...and you should also know by now that that kind of shit hurts his feelings.”

“But I didn’t _do_ anyth --” Aomine started to protest, but he was quickly interrupted.

“You insulted his intelligence and brushed him off when he was just trying to help you. Trying to help _us_ …”

Realization crashed over Aomine’s head like freezing water, and his mouth dropped open. “Shit...holy shit, does Tetsu _know?_ ”

Kagami didn’t react, save for squaring his shoulders stubbornly, “Yeah. He knows.”

“You _told_ him?” Aomine practically shouted, teeth and fists alike clenched to the point of pain, holding back a strong urge to punch his roommate right in the face. “You idiot, we don’t even _know_ if --!”

“Shut up!” Kagami cut him off hotly, flushing dark with anger and possibly mortification, “What was I supposed to do? I _trust_ him with it, and it’s not like _you’re_ ever going to --”

“Yeah?” Aomine sneered, his very skin tight and itchy, feverish with rage and frustration, about to detonate, “I’m never going to fucking measure up to how much you _trust_ Tetsu? Fine! Then you can go to _him_ with this bullshit from now on and leave me the fuck out of it!”

Kagami opened his mouth, then closed it again, visibly simmering, but beneath the anger flaring in his eyes there was also a clear stab of hurt. “Fine,” he grit out, all the defiance bleeding out of him to be replaced by obvious physical and emotional exhaustion. “Who needs you, anyway?”

Without another word, he turned his back and claimed the bed, lying down with a huff and hauling the blanket over himself, leaving Aomine standing in the middle of the room, fuming and resigning himself to sleeping on the floor, as far away from him as possible.

.

 

.

Kagami tripping over him woke him up, at what felt like the ass-crack of dawn. Sitting up with a muffled curse and rubbing his offended and probably bruised back, he was about to start railing at the dumbass to watch where he was going, but the clink of the toilet seat being raised and the sound of bare knees hitting the tile caused the caustic words to die in his throat. Instead, forfeiting the chance for any more sleep, he got up stiffly and started to get dressed, dragging his clothes over his aching skin with short, jerking motions. Any other day, if he had stuck around, Kagami might have made breakfast for both of them, but -- hardly able to bear staying in the same room as him -- today Aomine left in a hurry, without saying a word to him. He didn’t slam the door behind him when he fled the room, but it was a near thing.

Throughout the entire day, he could feel anger and tension and no small amount of guilt hanging over him like a thunderhead, gnawing and burning in the pit of his stomach like corrosive acid, crawling repeatedly up his throat and inciting him to cover his mouth with a fist, more than once, suspecting he might throw up on his desk and his papers and anyone who happened to be seated lower than him in the lecture hall. Overriding these disturbing sensations was a claustrophobic, caged feeling, even in the bright, open rooms he spent his morning classes in, like he needed to get away, needed to be somewhere else, or he would explode.

After two hours of this, he bailed, not even showing up to the gym for practice, where he would be most likely to run into Kagami. At first he just loitered in the hallways, aimlessly traveling the campus with no destination, then he lounged outside beneath the shade of a tree, but he didn’t fall asleep, despite how he could have used the nap after the rough night he had weathered on the floor. Instead he stared up at the trembling branches and the clouds scudding by overhead, containing his thoughts within boundaries of simplicity; safe thoughts, though the rest of the doubts and regrets and worries loomed in the corners of his mind, waiting to strike the moment he let down his guard.

Unable to stand the silence, he reflexively yanked his phone out of his pocket, dislodging a slip of paper along with it, which fluttered to the grass at his side. Absently, he picked it up and unfolded it, glimpsing a cluster of numbers scrawled next to a series of tiny cartoon hearts. He remembered it being handed to him several days ago -- definitely not the first or the last of such things he had received -- by a blushing, giggling classmate, surrounded by a gaggle of her peers, and he also remembered that at the time he’d only taken the phone number to be polite. Or...less of an ass than he could have been, as he had admittedly been rather curt and impatient with her as it was.

No matter. He crumpled up the paper and lifted his hand to discard it, and then hesitated. Slowly, he brought it back into his lap and carefully unfolded it again, smoothing the wrinkles out and setting his fingers to the keypad on his phone. Again, he paused, and shoved hand through his hair indecisively before letting the phone fall onto his stomach with a heavy sigh, accusing himself of being stupid. He could vividly imagine Kagami scowling and calling him a dumbass.

But, as soon as Kagami flashed across his mind, he felt something tug viciously in his gut; some mixture of anger and shame that pulled out a frustrated growl and had him flipping the phone back open, punching in the scribbled number and raising the device to his ear before his mind could change again.

On the third ring, there came a click, and then an airy, cheerfully curious greeting of “Hello~?”

Scrambling to sit up against the trunk of the tree, Aomine mentally fumbled for the girl’s name he couldn’t seem to remember, scarcely avoiding cursing out loud when it continued to elude him despite his efforts.

After a moment of complete, frustrated silence, he heard a breathy, nervous laugh from the other side of the call, “Hello? Who is this?”

Snapping his fingers as it came to him, Aomine answered with a miniature rush of victory, “Aiko-chan,” when he wasn’t immediately corrected, he pressed on, “It’s Aomine Daiki...I was just gonna ask if --”

“Aomine-kun?” He hadn’t thought it was possible for her to sound any more cheery, but she was practically squealing with delight, and he might have imagined it, but he thought he heard other voices whispering and giggling in the background. He swallowed. “Hi! I wasn’t expecting you to actually call! What’s on your mind~?”

Resisting an urge to sigh, he forged ahead, though he did think his voice was touched with a little more impatience when he spoke. “I dunno, you just...you said you might want to go out sometime, and well...I’m not doing anything…” Which was exactly the point. This cycle of inaction and stewing in his own uncertainty and misery was unbearable. He needed to be doing _something_. Anything to get him out of his own head and divert him from self-destructing for even a moment.

“Omigosh,” Aiko squeaked, but then seemed to attempt to regain her composure, clearing her throat, “I’d...love to go out with you, Aomine-kun, how’s Friday sound?”

“Actually,” Aomine said quickly, with a hint of urgency, “Are you free tonight?”

There was a moment’s pause, “Ooh…” Aiko said with a hushed, possibly flirtatious laugh, “Someone’s a little eager…Bad boy.”

Aomine tried not to verbally show how much that phrasing made him feel sick to his stomach when he answered, covering his eyes with a hand,  “Is that a yes?”

He didn’t know why, but he could picture her skipping for some reason, “Yes! I’ll meet you at the Maji by campus at seven. Sound good~?”

Aomine barely had time to mutter “Perfect,” before he snapped his phone closed and let it drop in his lap.

He did recognize that the only reason he had called Aiko up was as a distraction...a means to release tension, to try and force himself to relax, even briefly. He resolutely pushed Kagami out of his mind and tried to keep him there. They weren’t even together, they’d both said so; there was no reason he couldn’t go out with someone else, for just the night, to try and take a load off when it was so aggravatingly stressful to be in each others’ presence.

Still, no matter how many times he thought it, and said it aloud to himself, he couldn’t seem to get it to ring true.

.

 

.

He picked at his food more than he ate it. Aiko seemed perfectly happy to talk enough for both of them, babbling about cheerleading and which games of his she’d seen and the math final she had coming up, and other such trivial nonsense. He would chip in with a noncommital grunt or nod or monosyllabic response whenever there was a pause, but while she seemed oblivious to it, it probably would have been obvious to anyone else that he was barely listening. He had covered the cost of their meal entirely, picked a secluded booth in the back of the restaurant, allowed her to cozy up beside him, and been an all-around gentleman, but even he could admit to himself that he was just going through the motions.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about Kagami. Fragmented, suppressed spurts of thought though they were; he tried to tamp them down and shove them away, but something always resurfaced, comparing Aiko's bird-like appetite to his insanely ravenous tendencies, wondering where he was right now, what he was doing, if he’d gone and sought out Tetsu like Aomine had told him to in his outrage. He didn’t feel angry now, he didn’t think. Certainly not as furious and fed-up as he had been. No, right now, he thought he just felt...empty.

His mood didn’t improve when Aiko took him to the park near the Maji -- the same park Satsuki had called him to the day before -- and they sat on the swings under the moonlight while she continued to chatter away. He did notice that now, she glanced at him frequently, the light reflecting off her rippling dark hair as she turned her head in concern. He had to admit that his posture must have been less than encouraging; he sat on the swing like he was barely hanging on, tracing shapes in the woodchips with the toe of his shoe and keeping his head bowed.

“Aomine-kun, is everything alright?” she asked tentatively at last.

“Yeah...” Aomine muttered without looking up.

“It’s just...you don’t seem like you’re having any fun. You did ask me to go on a date with you, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Aomine repeated dully.

He heard the swing’s chains jingle as she got up from it, and lifted his head as she moved in front of him, looking down at him expectantly.

“Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?” she murmured, and, distracted, Aomine couldn’t help glancing at her cleavage right in front of his nose, more out of habit than particular interest. For perhaps the first time in his life, even the prospect of boobs was doing nothing for him, and the very notion scared him out of his wits.

Compulsively, in a desperate, throwaway gesture rather like calling her in the first place, he reached up and guided her head down, bringing their lips together. They were plush and delicately smooth, feeling strange and almost foreign against his own -- it had been such a long time since he'd kissed a girl; he'd grown more used to firm, masculine lips in the past month or so -- and even as a sweet, quivering breath puffed against his cheeks and she welcomed the kiss, he was withdrawing. Not physically; he only pressed their lips together harder and more fully, only pulled his last-ditch, futile distraction closer, but mentally he was shying away. He didn’t feel bored or empty anymore, he felt disgusted. Not with Aiko, who had done nothing to deserve his contempt, but with himself. And when a shy tongue lapped at his lips; soft, slender hands covering his own and bringing them up to Aiko’s lucious chest in invitation, he did physically pull back. _What am I_ doing _?_

“Stop,” he gasped against her mouth, jerking his hands away from her breasts as if they’d been burned, turning his head away from hers to disconnect the kiss, trying to catch his breath.

“Aomine-kun?” Aiko asked quietly, watching him with flushed cheeks and bright, worried eyes.

He breathed out, long and slow, steadying himself. “I’m sorry…” he said flatly, bracing his hands on his knees, “You didn’t do anything, I don’t….know what I’m doing.”

“But! You --”

“I have to go.” He stood, suddenly towering over her, “I shouldn’t have…. This was a mistake.”

“Aomine-kun -- !”

“Can you get home okay?” he interrupted without looking at her, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I...yeah, but --”

He did look then, feeling a stab of regret break his indifference; regret for wasting her time, and his own. “I really am sorry…but I can’t...I can’t be with you.”

She lowered her head, fingers squeezing each other self-consciously, “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

Hunching his shoulders against another flash of guilt, juxtaposing with an unexpected flicker of conviction and a need to go and find Kagami _this instant_ , he nodded absently.

“Yeah. There is.”

TBC

 


	11. Chapter 11

Very few of Kagami’s days started out well, these days. It was annoying, confusing, and frightfully unnerving that he so often either woke up feeling horribly nauseous, or started to feel it later in the day. Even days like today when he just crouched over the porcelain bowl he’d become so intimately familiar with, resting an arm on its rim and feeling his insides churning, but bringing up nothing despite the discomfort and the burn in the back of his throat. In some ways the long, futile spells of aching and dry heaving were worse than if he’d actually thrown up. Either way, every time he left the bathroom and gathered his things for class, he would be unable to shake the fear and dread and clammy, cold sweat for at least an hour afterwards. It was the only proof he had, yet, that something wasn’t normal. The only credence that led him to believe what he’d been told about his condition, besides his own gut instinct. In short, the time when Kagami was most susceptible to believing that he was indeed pregnant was when his body decided to take it out on him.

He and Aomine hadn’t so much as spoken to each other since their argument the night before, and there were times throughout the day when Kagami was convinced that what Kuroko had warned him about had actually come true and he’d driven Aomine away. Though he supposed Aomine had admittedly done more to distance himself than Kagami had done to distance him. _Stupid_ _bastard_.

Still, Aomine might have been crass, self-pitying, inconsiderate, and a rather shaky, unreliable supporter at best, but Kagami didn’t necessarily want him _gone_. He wasn’t entirely sure why, and tried to puzzle that out for much of the day he went through in a stupor, not participating or interacting beyond the lowest standard of what was expected of him.

And somewhere between being called on in class and having no idea what had been asked and going for a layup during practice only to overshoot the hoop completely, he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t any more complex than the fact that he liked Aomine. For all his narcissism and snark and insensitive asshole tendencies, he simply enjoyed being in his company. He enjoyed playing against him, touching and being touched by him, even just lying side by side in the time before they fell asleep, sometimes chatting idly or teasingly kicking each other under the covers, and sometimes saying nothing at all. He’d also glimpsed, occasionally, a level of caring and honest, boyish wonder behind those narrow, passive eyes, sometimes blown wide or dark with desire and passion he found in Kagami. Even when they were closed, even when he was on his back sweating profusely and panting for air -- after a grueling game of basketball or a round of rigorous, mind-blowing sex, it didn’t matter which -- there were times when he would just grin shamelessly to himself or laugh out loud, carefree and open, and something would twist in Kagami’s chest, watching big, bad Aomine let go and brighten up for no one else but him.

Of course, that was all before the mess that had started a few days ago. Now he found it excruciatingly difficult to read Aomine, but at the very least he could tell that he was twisted up and terribly conflicted. At times he turned aggressive and lashed out, at others he seemed to just want to shrink away and disappear, acting for all the world like a frightened, confused child. Kagami himself was scared, by this whole situation and the fact that he didn’t and couldn’t understand it or know what to expect...but he could clearly see that Aomine was _terrified_. There seemed to be something else eating at him too, something more than what Kagami had revealed to him, and somehow convinced him to believe. He got the feeling it had something to do with when he’d disappeared, and then showed up in the middle of the night drunk and delirious, only to forget what had taken place the very next morning. Something had pushed him to try to numb himself, and drown something out...and had also persuaded him to return to Kagami much quicker than he’d originally planned. And yet this critical tidbit of information and insight into Aomine’s sporadic actions over the past few days was completely unknown to Kagami.

And now he might never know. The sun had long since gone down, and he was sitting alone on the edge of the bed, watching the door to the dorm room and willing Aomine to walk through it. Whatever he’d said, he still paid to live here just like Kagami did, and surely that meant he would return eventually...unless he planned to spend the night with someone else, which could imply several things, but after the hateful, dismissive words that had been thrown at him yesterday evening, and after Kuroko’s warning, Kagami couldn’t erase it as a possibility. Though he sighed and scowled and resented it, and tried to get ahold of himself -- diligently fixing himself something to eat as a distraction -- he couldn’t suppress the stabs of worry that gnawed at him relentlessly, and he couldn’t get Kuroko’s words from before out of his head: _“He is also impulsive and terribly reckless…”_ Was it also possible that he would do something stupid without thinking, in his unstable state, and wind up hurt or in trouble?

Telling himself firmly that he was blowing it way out of proportion and only stressing himself out, he turned his attention to the small pile of sandwiches he’d made, as much for the comfort of doing something with his hands as the sustenance they would provide to assuage his clamoring hunger. Aomine would be fine. He was a big boy who could take care of himself, they both were, and he had all but told Kagami to butt out of his business and stop involving him anway. Really, Kagami should have been beyond pissed at the humongous jerk...and he was, but he still couldn’t shake the nerves, and the nagging concern that had him checking the door every few minutes.

By the time he’d all but resigned himself to sleeping and halfheartedly hoping Aomine decided to slip in sometime in the dead of night -- though Aomine was certainly not the stealthy type, and would probably bang the door open even if he returned after midnight...if he returned at all -- there came a great clatter at the door, as if to prove his point, the knob hardly having time to turn fully before one disheveled, panting Aomine staggered through it, disoriented blue eyes immediately landing on Kagami, and seeming to at once soften with something like relief, and grow cold and rigid with unease and indecision. He looked like he had run all the way here; from where, Kagami had no idea, but it certainly said something of his current emotional state. He wasn’t entirely sure what, but _something_ had changed.

Thusly convinced, Kagami got up from the bed, a furrow of mixed anger and worry crinkling his brow, but he barely had time to get a word out, or decide what he planned to say, before Aomine stood up straight, drew a deep breath, and burst out.

“You don’t have to say it -- I’m a dumbass. I’m a stupid, selfish, idiotic piece of shit and even though this whole thing’s a mess and you’re fucked up about it and I’m fucked up about it and, shit, _everything’s_ fucked up right now, I still shouldn’t have pulled any of that crap yesterday.” He looked up at Kagami, uncharacteristically sincere regret emanating from his eyes as his words tumbled over each other, faster and faster as he started to babble frantically, “I was just freaking out and my head was all screwed up and I didn’t know what to do ‘cause I kind of just found out my dad’s actually sort of my mom and Satsuki and I got in a fight yesterday and then Tetsu got dragged into it and I had no idea what he might’ve been thinking ‘cause I _never_ have any fucking idea what he’s thinking and I’m just...really sorry that I took it out on you and --”

He didn’t get to finish, because, as soon as the apology was out of his mouth, Kagami had abruptly closed the distance between them, seizing Aomine by the collar and cutting off the rest of his hurried, panicked words with a hard, urgent, just this side of desperate kiss. Initially, Aomine tensed up like a stone statue against him, but then he seemed to melt entirely, sighing through his nose and complementing the pressure of Kagami’s lips with his own, hungrily pressing them together at another angle and reaching up to tangle his fingers in his hair. Kagami breathed out a soft moan of appreciation and stood on his toes to match Aomine’s height, bearing down on him and diving into his warm, welcoming mouth with his tongue.

As he inhaled deeply between hot, wet clashes of lips, a sweet, cloying scent lifted from Aomine’s clothes and skin and crept into his nostrils. Blinking his eyes open, he broke away with a frown, until Aomine’s rather pleasure-hazed eyes flitted open as well.

“You...smell like perfume...” he said cautiously, not quite an accusation, but his voice was edged with mounting suspicion.

Aomine froze, the momentary bliss vanishing from his eyes as they widened with what looked like abject terror, before dulling and lowering with shame, “I-I know, I’m sorry, I was...I didn’t mean…I’m sorry...” The last two words were repeated in a shaky whisper, and Kagami realized the bold, arrogant, 192 centimeter man before him was trembling slightly.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter. He’d all but had his suspicion confirmed for him by Aomine’s reaction, but he didn’t care what had happened anymore. He didn’t intend to brush it off and pretend nothing had happened, because very obviously _something_ had happened, and he would be sure to bring it up for discussion later, but right now, it didn’t matter. Aomine seemed plenty repentant and ashamed, and was actually apologizing...repeatedly, miserably...Kagami wasn’t about to lay into him and make him feel any worse.

“Shut up,” he murmured instead, over Aomine’s repeated apologies and fragmented attempts at explanations. He registered the look of surprise that crossed Aomine’s face a moment before Kagami captured his lips again, cutting off anything else he might have tried to say. “We’ll talk later,” he promised, relaying everything else he didn’t say through his eyes, boring into Aomine’s uncertain blue ones, “Right now, I have other things in mind.”

Aomine swallowed uncertainly, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly with hesitant relief, “Yeah? Like what?”

Leaning in closer, close enough to feel hot breath puffing intermittently against his face, Kagami returned the tentative expression with his own, much more assured smirk, “Can't figure that out for yourself, _Ahomine_?”

Aomine blinked, seeming to brighten in an instant with astonishment, "You...you're serious?"

Kagami narrowly avoided rolling his eyes, sure an embarrassed flush was crawling across his face just the same, and looked away, "D-dumbass."

Taking the familiar insult with a grain of salt, Aomine just grinned in that pure, joyful, only _slightly_ heart-stopping way of his, and swept up Kagami’s mouth with his own, grasping insistently at his shoulders and hair and pushing him, tangling and tripping over both of their legs, until they were backed up against the bed frame, kissing and grabbing each other fiercely. Kagami didn’t resist as he was pushed on his back, gasping for breath and wrapping his legs around Aomine’s trim waist in a silent demand. Aomine obliged, diving down to crash their mouths together, lips open, wet and panting, teeth biting and gnashing as their tongues met and fought. A low, approving moan rumbled against Kagami’s lips and he leaned up, craning his neck and wrapping a hand around the back of Aomine’s head, pressing his tongue into his mouth as it fell open. Greedily sucking down Aomine’s heat and breath and warm, tangy flavor, he dragged him down on top of him, lining their bodies up and grinding them together. Aomine’s hips jerked, and he moaned again softly, the desire-laced sound echoed by Kagami as the darker man rutted against him, the barrier of denim between them doing little to conceal how hard he was, gulping unsteady breaths between forceful, desperate, open-mouthed kisses to Kagami’s mouth, then his jaw, and down to his neck. Kagami tipped his head back with a hiss between his teeth, granting him access, and Aomine seemed more than pleased to take advantage, nibbling and sucking at the vulnerable skin and pulling short, gasping moans from Kagami’s lips, as his hips rose off the bed to meet Aomine’s pushing down.

“Fuck,” Kagami breathed, arching his back as Aomine’s hands slipped under his shirt, fingers brushing the hard, trembling muscles of his stomach as his mouth worked at Kagami’s neck, biting and pulling and pressing wet, sloppy kisses to his jugular and throat.

“ _Yeah_ ,” he panted roughly against the skin he was abusing, rolling his hips against Kagami’s again, making them both groan, “That's what I was thinking…”

Kagami reached up to thwack him on the head, “Moron,” he grumbled, breaking off to harshly suck in a breath as Aomine’s nimble fingers found his nipples, and proceeded to tease them with gossamer strokes and vicious tweaks, until they were stiff and aching and stabbing into his palms, “G-get to it already…”

“Mm, I don't think so,” Aomine drawled, leaning up to mouth at Kagami’s chin before enclosing his lips with his own, “Don't wanna rush this, it's been too long.”

“It's been three days, asshole--!” Kagami began, breath hitching as one of Aomine’s hands dropped, sliding between their bodies to lightly palm and squeeze his arousal through the fabric of his jeans. He couldn't help the drawn-out, answering moan that spilled from his lips.

“Exactly,” Aomine murmured softly, eyes half-lidded and glittering with desire as his fingers mapped the cloth-covered, straining erection in his grasp, “Three days is much too long…”

Finally his other hand did join in, and both fumbled to unbutton Kagami’s jeans, thumbing down the zipper before pushing them down his legs, the obvious bulge stressing and dampening the front of his underwear rising to attention immediately. Aomine positively leered with satisfaction, to see how he had already affected Kagami. Kagami, for his part, was nearly as red as his hair by now, covering his mouth with a hand to hold back the pleading, indecent whimpers clawing at his throat as Aomine’s large, hot hand wrapped around him and started to stroke, lightly tugging and squeezing through the thin cotton and skimming over the dark, wet patch.

“Look at you,” he whispered raptly, leaning close until his mouth was an inch from Kagami’s face, breathing heat over him as he watched him with ravenous, burning eyes, “You're already so wet...you want it so bad you're fucking dripping…”

Kagami’s eyes squeezed shut, and he muffled a moan against his knuckles as he bit down on his hand, unwilling to show Aomine just how much his filthy words got to him, though the insistent, throbbing weight of his cock in his hand might have given him away. Apparently, that wasn't good enough for Aomine, because he took Kagami’s wrist in his free hand and pulled it away from his mouth, holding it down beside his head.

“Look at me, Kagami,” he commanded, pulling compellingly at his aching erection before letting go and dipping beneath the waistband of his underwear, cupping him skin to skin and starting to stroke him again, hard and slow but full of determination and focus. Kagami’s eyes squinted open, Aomine’s dark face shining with sweat taking up his entire field of vision, his slender eyebrows furrowed with concentration over lusty, passion-filled eyes and that smirking, taunting mouth, his bared teeth stark white against his skin.

“That's better,” he nodded approvingly, dragging his hand slowly over Kagami’s cock, digging his thumb against the slit. Kagami’s teeth sank into his lower lip. “I want to see your eyes go blank when you come undone...then I want to turn you over and fuck that tight, gorgeous ass, and when you can't walk in the morning, I want you to lean on me and remember that I did this to you."

Kagami bit down harder, holding back the loud, begging moan that wanted to come out of his mouth. He tasted blood. He didn't care.

Aomine wasted no time lowering his underwear entirely, stripping them and the jeans pooling at Kagami’s knees away and taking hold of his erection, petting and lavishing it with gentle strokes that didn't provide nearly enough friction. He kept up the light, teasing torture until, with a frustrated growl in his throat, Kagami lifted his hips up insistently, wantonly, telling without words explicitly what he wanted. He might have imagined it, but he thought he saw Aomine’s eyes soften with affection for a moment, even as he let go of Kagami’s wrist to reach down and blatantly adjust himself.

Closing his hand more tightly around Kagami’s swollen, weeping erection, he began to jack it harder and faster as he brought their lips together, placing an incongruously soft, slow kiss against his mouth. Kagami released his red, bitten lower lip and reciprocated, sighing deeply through his nose as he sought more pressure, easing his tongue into the humid hollow between Aomine’s lips. He was unable to silence the ragged moans and near-whimpers that were torn from him as Aomine stroked him fast and sure, twisting and tormenting the sensitive head until Kagami had to break away to gulp a breath, throwing his head back and clenching his teeth as the pleasure built and built, tightening in his stomach and groin before bursting out of him in a great rush, jerking a startled cry from his lips as strings of sticky cum shot up and spattered his shirt.

Breathing hard, he slowly came down as Aomine diligently milked him dry, before frowning in the general vicinity of his own stomach. “You couldn't have taken this off too?” he muttered, plucking at the cum-stained fabric of his shirt.

Aomine snickered, “It's on my to-do list...believe me.” Straightening, he quickly tossed his own shirt over his head and divested himself of his jeans and boxers, before gleefully tackling Kagami and leaning in to kiss him again. “After all, we’re just getting started.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I hope you people appreciate what I do for you. My internet's down so I had to type half of this smut and sap-ridden monster out on my phone, and then paste it and go through all the formatting crap AO3 can't do for itself for some reason.  
> I figured these two deserved a break, and some time together to...let's be honest, fuck like bunnies, but what else is new. I dunno if they quite deserve to screw across two whole -chapters-, but it looks like that's where we're heading. And then we can get back to our regularly-scheduled programming.))


	12. Chapter 12

Aomine moaned deep in his throat as Kagami’s body opened for him, hot and tight and clamping down wonderfully as he pushed himself inside, and he remembered, in that moment, that this -- yes _this_ \-- was what it was all about. This was worth all the struggle and annoyance and goddamn confusing emotions, worth the headaches and the bickering and the gnawing, incessant worry that had eaten at him lately. This closeness and pressure and heat, and the trembling, writhing beauty gasping and cursing under him was worth it all. This was heaven or some shit.

 

His hands rested on either side of Kagami’s hips, as he drew back leisurely before sliding home, watching the muscles of Kagami’s back tighten as he grit out something desperate between his teeth, against the sweat-dampened sheet he had pressed his face and wild, red hair into, muffling but failing to silence his pleas and breathless sounds of pleasure as Aomine slowly tortured them both. His back was slick with sweat and marked with numerous hickeys and indentations from Aomine’s teeth, and even from here Aomine could see his cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushed, his hands clenched deep in the tangled sheets to anchor himself. He was fucking gorgeous, and it was all Aomine could do not to throw his patience out the window, take him roughly by the waist or shoulders, or even his hair, and ride him hard and fast. The payoff would be so much sweeter if he took it slow.

 

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand it, though, with Kagami’s hoarse, frustrated moans ringing in his ears, and the way his hips stuttered and his knuckles turned white when Aomine pressed him down against the mattress, rubbing his rigid, neglected cock against the sheets. He was close to losing it, and Aomine wasn’t far off.

 

“Fuck...j-just do it already, bastard,” Kagami growled, arching his back and trying to get leverage with his knees against the bed, only succeeding in seating Aomine more fully inside of him. Aomine hissed a breath and leaned over him, sliding his hands slowly up the firm, wet expanse of his back until his face was next to his ear.

 

“Say please,” he murmured huskily, taking the top of it lightly between his teeth and hearing Kagami’s breath hitch. His hands wandered, one wrapping around his chest to fondle one taut, pebbled nipple, the other dropping between Kagami’s thighs, skimming down the insides of them but avoiding where Kagami would want his touch most. A broken sound suspiciously close to a whimper tore from Kagami’s mouth, as his hips jerked in a futile attempt to get friction on his flushed, dripping erection. Lips curving in a wicked grin, Aomine curled his fingers around the head, smearing through the stream of pre-cum that leaked from its slit. Kagami bucked.

 

“Shit --  _p_ _lease!_ ”  he grit out, legs spread and ass in the air, lifting his head as Aomine’s tongue traced the delicate shell of his ear, “Fuck me, _fuck me_ …!”

 

Groaning, Aomine obliged and slammed forward, digging both hands into Kagami’s hips as he drove into him upward and inward, clenching his teeth around the raw, primal sounds of pleasure each frenzied thrust brought into his throat. Kagami, it seemed, had no such control left, only desperation; breathing hard and open-mouthed, releasing harsh gasps and obscene, urgent moans that made Aomine’s face heat and his toes curl as he frantically pumped inside him.

 

“Ao-- _fuck_ ,” Kagami managed, nearly driven incoherent, back bowed and eyes squeezed tight, “I-I’m --”

 

One of Aomine’s hands fumbled to reach down and grab his weeping cock, stroking it counterpoint to his hard thrusts that forced the breath from his lungs and caused the air to ring with the wet smacking of flesh on flesh. Kagami tightened further, pulling Aomine with him as he worked up to the peak, the tension building and building, until it broke when Kagami choked out a sound like a ragged sob, releasing against his stomach and the sheets and Aomine’s hand as he trembled and spasmed around Aomine’s throbbing cock.

 

“Yes,” Aomine panted, riding him through his orgasm in short, jerky thrusts until his own release came crashing over him, turning the world white as he shoved in deep one last time, “Oh _fuck_ yes, Kagami...I love you _…_ ”

 

Resting his forehead against the steady shoulder in front of it, his chest heaved over Kagami’s back as they both fought for breath, shaking against each other.

 

“Shit...” Kagami said after a moment, his voice gravelly and probably sore from the veritable howling he’d been doing. Then he laughed, rough and breathless, and collapsed heavily against the bed, taking Aomine with him. “ _Shit._ ”

 

“What?” Aomine asked, pushing off of him with still trembling arms and looking down at his damp, flushed, exhausted face, turned to the side as he breathed like he was starved for air, eyes closed and wet, swollen lips slightly parted. Something in Aomine’s stomach tightened.

 

“Nothing,” Kagami sighed exasperatedly, reaching up to lightly shove him away, “You’re a moron…”

 

Aomine’s teeth bared in grin, “Yeah? Takes one to know one.” He did take the hint and pull out of Kagami’s warmth, registering the wince that crossed his face as he did. Dropping to his elbows, he sprawled out beside him on his stomach, thoroughly spent and buzzing from head to toe with post-coital bliss.

 

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing from both of them, and Aomine imagined he could hear the jammed gears in Kagami’s head unsticking and starting to turn normally again. _Not that there’s much activity going on up there normally…_ he considered, smirking to himself with amusement.

 

After a few minutes, though, Kagami shifted, and propped his head up on his hands, elbows braced against the bed. “Did you really mean that?” he asked, uncharacteristically tentative, looking away from him, across the room.

 

“Ah…” Aomine stammered, sitting up and running a flustered hand through his damp, ruffled hair, “Um...the thing is...I think I...did?”

 

He couldn’t explain it, but the moment he’d laid eyes on Kagami tonight, after the mess he’d caused, after the evening of empty, forced distraction he’d suffered through, there had been such an enormous measure of relief, rushing through him, and when he’d pulled him close and kissed him, he’d felt overwhelmingly like...everything was right in the world. Like nothing else mattered. Hell, it was Kagami who had made things matter again in the first place. Who had pulled him out of his apathetic depression in high school and made him start to feel alive again. It wasn’t such an enormous leap to connect those feelings with the idea of love, and though he didn’t think he could articulate as much to Kagami, he did want him to understand.

 

He watched Kagami’s odd eyebrows furrow thoughtfully, processing this, and then he sat up as well, one leg hanging off the side of the bed as he faced Aomine. Aomine couldn’t help a tiny, smug grin to see how gingerly he was moving, and the streaks of his own semen drying on his abdomen. His expression, though, was surprisingly serious.

 

“Where were you, tonight?” he asked after a moment, studying him with unwavering crimson eyes.

 

Aomine faltered, and tried to avoid his gaze and look away, but something in the hard set of Kagami’s eyes and mouth held him in place. He sighed.

 

“I asked...someone -- one of my classmates -- out...on a date,” he admitted haltingly, “But --”

 

“A girl?” Kagami cut him off, emotion blazing to life in his face. Embarrassment. Insistence. A flash of hurt.

 

“Yeah,” Aomine affirmed shortly, succeeding in breaking eye contact with him.

 

“And did you…?” Aomine didn’t need to see the vague, flustered gesture to know how that sentence would have ended.

 

“No.”

 

“But you --” Kagami began heatedly, near-accusingly.

 

“I was all screwed up from before,” Aomine interrupted, lowering his head to better escape his burning, penetrating gaze, “I wasn’t thinking, and I called her and asked her out to try to...get my mind off of…” he trailed off, but picked right back up again before Kagami could jump in, “I just took her to the Maji and the park by campus, and the whole time I felt like total shit and barely fucking talked to her….”

 

“...Did you kiss?” Kagami asked quietly, too quietly, almost like he didn’t want to hear the answer.

 

Aomine swallowed. “Once,” he whispered, before going on hurriedly, “But only for a second, I could barely stand it and I immediately realized I’d screwed up and --”

 

“It’s okay,” Kagami said, and when Aomine looked up, this time he was the one looking away.

 

“What?” he asked blankly, not expecting that at all from the hot-tempered redhead who had pushed and shoved and shouted at him for not putting his underwear in the laundry basket, and cursed a blue streak at him for touching or even _talking_ about his ass in public. Subdued was not in Kagami’s vocabulary, and yet there he was, looking the perfect picture of it.

 

“It’s okay,” he repeated, looking at him for half a second. The resignation and hint of betrayal in his eyes flayed Aomine wide open, and he felt suddenly like he’d been kicked in the stomach, “You made a mistake, and you came back...it’s fine.”

 

Aomine was silent for a moment, scrambling for words, for tact he had never possessed in his life, unable to find the right thing to say. “I-it’s not,” he argued, “It’s not okay, I -- shit, the whole time I was out I couldn’t get you out of my fucking head, and I knew you’d be pissed and I was pissed and I couldn’t even look at Aiko because I knew I was fucking up and every second I spent with her was just making it worse and I wished I could leave but...I asked her to come in the first place and I was already being a huge dick just by seeing her when I was already...with someone else…”

 

“I thought you were the one who said we weren’t together,” Kagami broke in, expression unreadable.

 

Aomine blinked, and then shook his head twice, “I was also the one who asked if you wanted to fix that, dumbass.”

 

“You were _also_ the one who told me to leave you out of...this,” Kagami pointed out, crossing his arms stubbornly over his midriff on the last word.

 

Aomine opened his mouth to continue arguing, and then sighed and closed it, “I know. I was being really stupid and immature -- ”

 

“Yeah you were,” Kagami agreed, a taunting edge coming into his voice.

 

“Yeah, I was. I already said it, didn’t I?” Aomine snapped irritably, hunching his shoulders and turning his head away with a huff.

 

“...But you came back,” Kagami murmured, lowering his arms from his stomach to rest in his lap, “I mean, I know you live here and all but you didn’t have to…”

 

Aomine said nothing, and only grunted in acknowledgement, looking at the wall, the floor, the crumpled sheets; anything but him. Another stretch of silence reigned as Kagami seemed to sort his thoughts, which probably shouldn’t have taken so long, Aomine thought, with a blunt shadow of the amusement he’d felt before when jabbing at Kagami’s mental capabilities.

 

“...What did you mean, earlier?” Aomine blinked at that and turned around to face him, “When you said you found out your dad is actually your mom?”

 

Aomine just looked at him for a second or two, then ducked his head away with a dry chuckle, resigning himself to even more uncomfortable admissions, “You caught that, huh? ...Yeah, after you got out of the hospital and I went with Satsuki, I called my old man and tried to explain...the situation to him…”

 

“Why?” Kagami asked.

 

“Huh?...Why what?” Aomine blinked, taken aback.

 

“Why would you bother trying to explain to him? I thought you didn’t believe me, then, and you got all pissed off when I told Kuroko…” He laid this all out matter-of-factly, with no apparent emotion except for mild surprise at Aomine’s actions.

 

Aomine hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly, “I dunno, I just...couldn’t think what else to do, I had to tell someone… And that’s different, Tetsu is...he’s…”

 

“He’s in the same boat as you, you know,” Kagami shrugged carelessly.

 

“What?” Aomine caught himself sitting up straighter, and if he was sweating, it was only from his exertions before.

 

“He told me he’s got three parents. Apparently one’s a dad who’s actually his mom.”

 

Aomine stared at him for a moment, open-mouthed; he suspected after a moment that his jaw might have come unhinged.

 

Kagami squirmed under his gaze, seeming unable to look at him for more than a few seconds, and eventually an embarrassed flush started to crawl across his face, “Let’s get dressed if we’re gonna continue this,” he muttered, getting to his feet. Aomine snapped out of his daze, and had to suppress a spurt of pure masculine satisfaction to see him wobble slightly as he stood.

 

“Are we gonna continue this?” he prompted, pushing off the bed to stand as well.

 

Kagami stepped into his boxers before turning back to face him, “Yeah. I’ve still got a hell of a lot of questions for you, Ahomine.”

 

While teasing, as always, this time the title seemed oddly defensive, and Aomine couldn’t help smirking.

 

“Ditto, Bakagami.”

 

TBC

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

“What are we going to do if this is real?” Kagami asked quietly, sprawled on his back, now fully clothed, next to Aomine as they both looked up at the ceiling, lost in their own thoughts.

 

For a moment, he thought Aomine might not have heard him, but then he’d turned over on his side, propping his head up on one arm and looking at him perplexedly. “...What do you mean?”

 

Kagami sighed and closed his eyes; it seemed he was going to make him explain it out loud. It wasn’t getting any easier to say. “I mean, if I’m...really pregnant…” he trailed off, and his eyes flitted open to look at his intently listening roommate sidelong, “What then?”

 

Aomine frowned, and then his face scrunched up as he seemed to come to the conclusion that there was no obvious right answer; no easy way out of that question.

 

“I mean...I couldn’t...keep playing basketball if I was...if…” Kagami struggled to elaborate, trailing off and rubbing a frustrated hand over his face, “It’d be like the other day all over again. And what happens when…” he swallowed, “When it’s over? We would...I would…”

 

When he didn’t finish the sentence for almost a minute, Aomine shifted and opened his mouth hesitantly, “You would...have a baby...”

 

Kagami set his teeth, willing his face not to flush at the very thought, which still seemed altogether preposterous, but he felt heat crawling up his neck just the same. “Y-yeah….and….shit, how the hell would I stay in school and go to practice and play in games with a fucking baby?”

 

“You could --” Aomine began, but then broke off and seemed to seriously consider the idea, and all it entailed. His face fell. “...Oh. Right.”

 

“Right,” Kagami echoed numbly, folding his arms over his stomach and returning his gaze to the ceiling. After a moment, he spoke again, tentatively, “What about you?”

 

“Me?” Aomine asked, sounding taken aback.

 

“Yeah,” Kagami answered, turning his head to see his expression. He looked as surprised as he sounded. “What’re you going to do, if this is real?”

 

Aomine fell silent, furrowing his eyebrows above brooding, indigo eyes. Technically, he didn’t have to do anything. Nothing had to change for him, if he didn’t want it to; it was Kagami’s problem now, not his. He remembered a day or two before when they’d had a very similar exchange...Aomine hadn’t been able to give him an answer then either.

 

“Well I’d still...be...here,” he started to say, slowly, as if carefully measuring each word before speaking it, “I dunno what…” he trailed off, before looking Kagami in the eye with a startling amount of sincerity, “What...would you need me to do?”

 

Kagami blinked, “W-what?”

 

Seeming frustrated, Aomine made a vague spinning gesture with one hand, like it should have been obvious what he was asking, “Like, would you...need me to take care of you? Get a job, bring home the bacon and all that shit?”

 

Kagami almost snorted indignantly, but then it sank in exactly what he’d said. “Wait... _what?_ Y-you would...you’re serious?”

 

Aomine let out a harsh breath and dropped his gaze, and then shrugged, slowly raising it again, and despite how apparently annoyed and flustered he was, he still seemed dead-serious, “Sure, I mean...if you’re...gonna go through with this, least I can do is not make you do it alone.”

 

Kagami’s jaw very nearly dropped, and he stared at him for a moment, before narrowing his eyes slightly, “You know it won’t be easy, right? Do you even know...what you’re signing up for?”

 

Aomine sat up, crossing his legs and looking down at him, “I don’t know any more than you do. But I can still...give it my best shot, and stick with you. W-whatever happens.” He paused a moment before adding quickly, “If you want me to, I mean.”

 

Kagami was still skeptical, and sat up as well, looking him up and down critically, trying to find the catch.

 

“Why?” he asked finally, “Why would you want to stick around? What’s in it for you?”

 

Aomine opened his mouth, and then closed it again, tapping his fingers against his knees in a show of nervous fidgeting Kagami didn’t think he’d ever seen from him. Then he turned his head and met Kagami’s penetrating glare head-on, fervor flaring in his eyes.

 

“You.”

 

Kagami’s wall of hardened resolve broke, and he blinked in astonishment, completely thrown by the simple, stubborn declaration.

 

“H-huh?” he stammered, at a loss for what to say, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Aomine rolled his eyes, with an air of teasing, only slightly condescending endearment, before reaching out and poking him in the chest, “ _You’re_ what’s in it for me. If I get _you_ out of the deal, then fuck it, count me in.”

 

Kagami scrutinized him, still having a hard time believing what he was hearing, “....Why?” he repeated, warily, drawing the word out into more than one syllable.

 

Aomine seemed to not comprehend his perfectly valid confusion, looking at him like he was the biggest idiot to ever walk to planet. Then, after a moment, his gaze softened slightly, and a small smirk edged the corner of his mouth, “Because I like you. Like...a lot, if you haven’t noticed.”

 

There was more in his eyes than what he said, and for a moment, looking at them, Kagami thought he started to understand what he meant. He remembered him saying he loved him, gasping it in the throes of passion and ecstasy, less than an hour ago; remembered him slurring that he was “fucking awesome” while under the influence three days before. And he thought he saw, in those unwavering eyes, how Aomine believed that the world would become an empty, bleak, senseless void without him in it. He hadn’t ever thought his conceited, swaggering rival would be one to experience the fear of loss, but he could have sworn he was interpreting just that from the drawn-out, meaningful glance he was given.

 

He sighed, “I don’t know...what might happen...” he said slowly, uncertainly, running a hand through his own tousled, sweaty hair, “...to me. I might...I mean....what if…?”

 

“I don’t care,” Aomine cut him off, voice still uncharacteristically steady and serious, “I don’t care if we can’t play ball for awhile, I don’t care if it you get all emotional and PMS-y or if you somehow manage to eat even more than you already do, I don’t care if you swell up like a goddamn balloon, and I mean, I’ve always kinda wondered what you’d look like with boobs --”

 

“Sh-shut up!” Kagami interrupted, frantically waving his hands in front of his overheating, probably beet red face, before lowering them to his lap and letting out an irritated huff, “Moron. That’s not gonna happen.”

 

He could very well have imagined it, but he thought Aomine might have pouted, “Hn. How do you know?”

 

“I --” Kagami began heatedly, before breaking off, wavering a moment, and finally facing the uncomfortable, terrifying truth, “...don’t.”

 

For over a minute, neither of them said a word, or looked at each other, the air between them uncertain and only somewhat tense. Kagami didn’t think they were fighting, but he didn’t think they were in agreement either, and the plain, simple fact that they were walking into this insane situation completely blind was enough to shake his faith in everything...including himself.

 

“Are you…?” he began, still gazing down at his own hands, toying with each other in his lap, “I mean...you do realize if this is real, it means you’ll be a father...right?”

 

Aomine raised his head, but Kagami didn’t look up to meet his eye, unsure what he would see if he did. “I…yeah,” he said, voice cracking on the last word, “I know.”

 

Kagami did look then, searching his rival and himself, “...Are you really ready for that?”

 

Aomine paused, and then tilted his head slightly, gaze cutting across the room, away from him, “Well, no...and neither are you...but it’s still happening, isn’t it? And you’re still going through with it...right?”

 

“I don’t think I have a choice,” Kagami muttered, biting his already sore lower lip doubtfully.

 

Aomine’s eyes roved over him slowly, as though taking in every detail of his face, and then he sighed with something like fond resignation, “Then I don’t either. ...Let’s do it. Together.”

 

Kagami blinked, and looked at him quizzically, raising one of his eyebrows, which, according to Aomine, made them look even more odd.

 

“I mean as long as you’ll put up with me,” Aomine added sheepishly.

 

Kagami didn’t move or react for a long moment, and then lowered his head with a soft, disbelieving laugh. _I must be out of my damn mind…_

 

“Sure, dumbass…” he sighed, nudging him with his foot, “You’re lucky I kind of like you too.”

 

Aomine started slightly, “What? You do?”

 

“Kind of,” Kagami reiterated, holding fast while Aomine stared at him with bated breath, before showing him two fingers a centimeter or so apart, and smirking tauntingly, “Just a little.”

 

“Bastard.”

 

“Yeah, yeah…” Lightly pushing his chest, Kagami crawled over to his side by the window before flopping down, exhausting and aching all over, “Now go to sleep.”

 

For a moment, Aomine didn’t move, but then Kagami felt him burrowing under the blankets on his side, pulling them over Kagami as well. It didn’t take long for him to scoot closer, subtly, to Kagami’s back, and by the time both of them were asleep, they might as well have been spooning.

 

.

 

.

 

“I want to meet him.”

 

Aomine glanced at him fleetingly, cell phone still cradled between his cheek and shoulder, “Uh...yeah, sure…” he said distractedly, before what Kagami had said seemed to catch up with him and he whipped around, “Wait, what?”

 

“Your dad...or um…”

 

“Don’t say it.” Aomine interrupted, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

 

Kagami paused, one arm through the sleeve of his jacket, “...Fine,” he shrugged; he hadn’t been comfortable with the maternal title either, so he supposed he could empathize, “I just mean...if we’re going to be doing this together...you should at least introduce me, right?”

 

“Dumbass, it’s not like we’re getting married,” Aomine muttered.

 

A beat, and then both of them were blushing furiously. “Right. Yeah,” Kagami agreed quickly, looking away and pulling his zipper up to his chest.

 

Aomine was silent a moment, then lowered his phone from his ear and snapped it shut, “He did want to talk to you, though.”

 

Kagami blinked, “Really?”

 

“Well...he said if you needed help, you could contact him, I dunno if that counts.”

 

Hesitating, Kagami slipped his hands into his pockets, looking at his shoes, “Well he’s...been through this before...right, I mean…?”

 

“I guess,” Aomine said uncomfortably, one hand cupping the back of his neck.

 

It was still pretty hard to believe, that the person standing before him had been born to a mother who was actually a man...and that a similar phenomenon was supposedly happening in himself. Still, any information he could get, especially early-on, would likely help illuminate the confusing situation a little better, and make it easier to face, for the both of them. Though he didn’t look forward to it, he supposed he should also check back in with Dr. Kishima, at some point, to verify that this was actually happening, if nothing else.

 

“So can I come with you or not?” he asked after a moment.

 

Aomine seemed to think about it, dropping his phone into his pocket and gathering up his bag. “...Sure, why not? Meet me after practice and we’ll go together. But don’t bring up that I got wasted after talking to him the other day.”

Kagami’s eyebrows drew together, and he frowned at him, “Why’d you do that, anyway? And _how?”_

 

Aomine sighed, rolling his head back on his shoulders, “I’ve had a fake I.D since high school. Imayoshi was a freaking sadist when he was captain; his idea for hazing the underclassmen was getting them all drunk and making them play a high-stakes game against the third years.”

 

“What kind of stakes?”

 

Something like repressed fear glittered in Aomine’s eyes, and he scowled, “You don’t want to know.”

 

“Did you win?” he asked, though he thought he knew the answer.

 

“My _team_ lost.” Seeming to brush the subject off, Aomine went on hurriedly, “Anyway, I was just...really fucked up in the head after I talked to my dad, and I was freaking out about that and what you had told me earlier, so I took a cab from Satsuki’s place downtown, had the driver drop me at the nearest bar, and tried to forget about it for awhile.”

 

Kagami recalled a flash from the day before, when Kuroko explained to him that Aomine wasn’t one to stand and face his problems, and was more likely to run from them. He wasn’t sure how that was going to affect his apparent conviction to see this thing through with Kagami...if he responded the same way every time he was overwhelmed, he wouldn’t be very much help. He supposed they would have to cross that bridge when they got to it.

 

Aomine snorted, “What’s that face for? I still came back, didn’t I?”

 

Kagami snapped out of it, and lifted his shoulders in a shrug, “Yeah, you did.”

 

Nudging him lightly as he walked past, Aomine grinned and threw over his shoulder, “Then let’s get to class. I’ll introduce you to my old man tonight, okay?”

 

Letting out a quiet sigh, Kagami followed after him, breaking into a stiff jog so as not to be left behind.

 

“Okay.”

 

TBC

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((*starts singing* Juuust a spoon full of symbolism helps the metaphors go down...  
> So much dialogue in these last few chapters, but this one in particular is just one long conversation. I guess they did need it, though...I mean at least they're communicating. Hopefully after the next chapter things will pick up speed and we'll get more into the pregnancy aspect of the story. Not that the emotions and drama aren't fun to mess with *evil laughter*  
> Just a reminder that comments give me life, and keep this story going strong!))


	14. Chapter 14

“Are you _still_ limping?” Aomine sputtered, staring with unconcealed shock as Kagami approached him with a subtle, but still noticeable unevenness to his stride.

 

Immediately, predictably, Kagami’s face went bright red, but he still managed to give Aomine a withering glare. “I’m not _limping,_ asshole, you just --!” He broke off abruptly, seeming to realize there was nothing he could finish that statement with that wouldn’t send Aomine’s ego through the roof. Even what he had said was enough to incite a wide, cocky smirk.

 

“That good, huh?”

 

“Shut up,” Kagami grumbled, hands deep in his pockets as he fell in step beside him, face still conspicuously resembling a ripe tomato, betraying his embarrassment, “I had to sit out of practice today and it’s all your fault.”

 

“I know,” Aomine grinned, recognizing that he had just reached the point of being entirely too pleased with himself, “I was there, remember?”

 

Letting out a heavy, frustrated exhale, Kagami looked away, “Yeah, well, don’t get too full of yourself. That could’ve been one of my last chances to play with you.”

 

That shut Aomine up,  and for a moment they just walked in silence, only the sound of rustling fabric and muffled footfalls breaking the quiet.

 

“...Do you still... _want_ to play with me?” he asked after awhile. Even to his own ears the question sounded petulant and insecure, and he almost cringed.

 

Kagami’s head whipped around, “Wha --? Of course I do, dumbass! Why would…?”

 

Aomine sighed through his teeth, “You’re the only one who’s worth my time in a game anyway. But if you can’t...keep up anymore...I…”

 

“I don’t want you to go easy on me,” Kagami said fiercely, as though sensing where that statement was headed.

 

“Well I don’t want to put your ass in the hospital again!” Aomine retorted.

 

Kagami stopped, and when he looked at him it was with bared teeth and narrow, blazing eyes; the very picture of stubbornness and determination. Aomine halted as well, breath catching in his chest as he was reminded of the first, real time they had faced off on the court, evenly matched; the first time he had seen Kagami in the Zone...the happiest he could remember being in his life.

 

“It was my own fucking fault I was in the hospital,” Kagami snapped, balling up his fists at his sides, “I pushed myself while I was sick, that doesn’t mean I can’t handle playing against you anymore...and it doesn’t mean I can’t still kick your ass any day of the week.”

 

Aomine stared at him, at a loss, and slowly it dawned on him that he must have insulted him with what he’d said, what he’d suggested...and pretty deeply too, judging by how quickly it had angered Kagami. Then again, it occurred to him that it might have been hormonal; the hot-tempered redhead had a short fuse on a good day, but lately he supposed it had been a little ridiculous how unpredictably up and down his mood had been.

 

“You think I can’t take it?” Kagami went on, grabbing the front of his shirt and getting in his face. He wasn’t shouting yet, and his voice remained steady and level, but he wasn’t far off. “Then bring it on, I'll remind you exactly who you’re dealing with.”

 

Before Kagami could decide to throw a punch or tackle him to the ground, almost before he himself could think, Aomine had taken his scorching cheeks in his hands and covered his mouth with his own, leaning up to use his height advantage -- slight though it was -- to bear down on him harder and attack from all sides, ardently and ravenously devouring his lips. When he broke away, both of them were flushed and panting, and the furious snarl had evaporated from Kagami’s face to be replaced by shock.

 

“What...what was that for?” he blinked, all traces of irritation and offended ire gone from his eyes, like it hadn’t even been there in the first place.

 

A little self-consciously, Aomine ran a hand through his hair and averted his gaze, “Nothing, I kind of...just realized…” his voice dropped several decibels and he went on in a quiet, embarrassed mumble, “That you’re like, really hot when you’re mad.”

 

Kagami looked at him like he’d just expressed a deep yearning to quit basketball and pursue his true calling as a professional ballerina. “What?”

 

“I mean,” Aomine scrambled to explain, though he doubted there was any helping his case after admitting something so lame, “I’ve kind of always thought that, that’s part of why I mess with you so much, but like...I just _remembered_ …”

 

“Remembered what?”

 

Aomine opened his mouth, about to try to describe how that same fire had shown in his eyes when they faced off in the Zone, how it had invigorated him and shook awake some part of him that he’d thought was long dead, but in the end he just closed it again and laughed softly to himself, starting to walk away, “Nothing…”

 

“Oi!” Kagami protested, chasing after him, still rather hampered in his stride, which only heightened Aomine’s amusement and caused him to laugh louder as he picked up the pace, keeping teasingly ahead of him, “Don’t say something like that and just walk away! You’re a stupid, brainless idiot, you don’t get to be mysterious!”

 

From there, it turned into a race, but with Kagami’s current impediment and insistence on wasting his breath pestering him the whole way, it was plain to see that he was doomed to lose.

 

.

 

.

 

By the time they got on the train, Kagami was still panting heavily from the long run. Aomine admitted he was slightly out of breath too, but even so, he’d hardly broken a sweat; he couldn’t say the same for Kagami, judging by how often he swiped at his forehead and neck with his sleeve or the collar of his shirt. Frowning to himself, Aomine looked him up and down, realizing after a moment that he was subconsciously looking for changes in his physique, for some physical cue that would reveal what was supposedly happening to his body...what had been happening for a month now without either of their notice. But Kagami still looked the same; a little flushed from exertion at the moment, but other than an apparent decrease in his stamina, nothing seemed to be different about him.

 

Kagami must have caught him looking, wondering and puzzling silently to himself, because he adjusted his grip on the hand strap over his head and faced him, “What?”

 

 _You know what._ Aomine bit his tongue, and didn’t answer for a moment, watching the self-conscious irritation in Kagami’s gaze gradually shift to something like unease.

 

“...What are you going to tell your parents?” he asked finally, settling on something fairly appropriate to bring up. He didn’t know much about Kagami’s family or home life, all he did know was that he’d supposedly lived on his own, and had his own apartment all to himself for most of high school.

 

Kagami wet his lips, looking through Aomine as he seemed to think about it. “My dad’s...still in America, for his business. I saw him the last time I was in LA, but I haven’t seen or heard from my mother since my last year of middle school. They split up officially around the time I moved back to Japan.”

 

Aomine blinked, honestly not expecting that. Kagami had never outwardly shown that he was dealing with a broken family, had never brought it up or given some sign that parental drama was affecting him in any way, even back then, when it was still so recent. Then again, Aomine had rarely stopped to consider the fact that Kagami might actually have had a life outside of playing basketball, especially in high school when that was all his own revolved around.

 

“So I guess...I don’t have to tell either of them anything,” Kagami concluded, dropping his gaze to the irregularly jolting floor of the train car under his feet, “Whatever happens in my life doesn’t affect them.”

 

Aomine didn’t know what to say, taken aback by the straightforward, rather emotionless explanation he was given. Kagami didn’t sound sad, broken up, or even resentful, he just gave him the facts like he was reciting a report for school. He wasn’t sure what to make of it; whether to be unnerved or sympathetic, whether to question what he was being told and try to dig deeper or just accept that that was the way things were, at least as Kagami saw them.

 

“What if your dad moved back to Japan, though?” he asked after a long moment of drawn-out silence, “Even if it’s years from now...no, _especially_ then, wouldn’t you...I mean…?” He faltered as he considered that it kind of wasn’t his place to butt into something so personal. He had grown pretty close to Kagami, he thought, over the past few weeks, but this revelation right here was proof that there was still a lot he didn’t know about him. A lot Kagami kept to himself and didn’t share with anyone.

 

Kagami looked up at him, and now there was a flash of emotion in his dark crimson eyes; a hard, determined flare of resolution. “He missed out on most of the last three years of my life. He didn’t come to any of my games, or my graduation; hell, he didn’t even call on my birthday. He doesn’t know what college I go to, or where I’m living right now, or who I'm living _with_...he doesn’t even know I’m gay.” The last statement was hardly a mumble, and Kagami had looked away with embarrassment by the time it was spoken, but Aomine still caught it.

 

“Well...neither did I, until a month ago,” Aomine said cautiously.

 

Kagami rolled his eyes, “That’s different. I mean yeah, I'm not as open about it as I could be, but I _couldn't_ tell him because he was always too damn busy for me. Tatsuya was the first person I came out to, when I was thirteen. Then Kuroko, and now you.”

 

“Wait, did you and Tetsu…?” Aomine began, fighting down an irrational flicker of confusing jealousy as the possibility dawned.

 

"No," Kagami interrupted shortly, and didn't say anything else for the remainder of the ride. Aomine didn’t press for anything else, digesting the information he’d been given in silence as rows of towering buildings rushed by outside the train window, shrouded in black by the sun beginning to set behind them.

 

.

 

.

 

Aomine hadn’t been home since leaving high school, but he wasn’t surprised to see that nothing had changed in his absence. He supposed it hadn’t really been that long, but he himself felt almost like a different person, approaching the house he’d spent his childhood and the majority of his teen years in now. As he started up the front steps, he noticed that Kagami was hanging back, hands back in his pockets, looking uncomfortable.

 

“What’s your deal?” he asked over his shoulder, “I thought you wanted to come.”

 

Shifting, Kagami slowly followed after him, stopping on the step below the one he was standing on, “I did, it’s just...w-what if…?”

 

Aomine read the look of nervous uncertainty in his gaze, and shrugged with a careless half-smile, “Hey, if it sucks or shit goes down, we can always leave.”

 

Kagami blinked, and his unique eyebrows drew together slightly, “What kind of shit are you expecting?”

 

Waving him off dismissively, Aomine crossed the last few steps and leaned his thumb against the doorbell. It felt kind of odd essentially asking permission to enter his own house, but he figured it would be better to announce his arrival, all things considered.

 

A few moments passed, and then the door swung open, revealing a man who was, in many respects, the spitting image of Aomine. His skin was a shade or two lighter, his face crossed with a few more lines and smattered with stubble, and he sported black hair instead of Aomine’s navy locks, but the narrow, sharp blue eyes that roved over the both of them were so identical that Aomine thought he saw Kagami start in surprise as they landed on him. And there they lingered even as his father addressed him.

 

“You didn’t mention you were bringing company,” there was a cool note of reproachfulness in Aomine Senior’s voice, but he stepped back with an inviting gesture to both of them in spite of it.

 

“I tried to call you to let you know; you didn’t pick up,” Aomine muttered, taking off his shoes and jacket and motioning for Kagami to do the same. Then he faced his father and shrugged, “Dad, this is Kagami. Kagami…” he waited for the redhead to look up before going on with the introduction, “This is my dad.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Aomine-san, sir,” Kagami said quickly, all but tripping over himself and lowering his head respectfully. Aomine stared; he’d never seen his brash, hotheaded and often foul-mouthed rival look and sound so polite.

 

His father seemed surprised as well, shooting him sideways glance before returning Kagami’s slight bow, “And you, but there’s no need for stiff formality here. ...I’ve heard a lot about you, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami’s eyes darted to meet Aomine’s, betraying a hint of nerves, and he straightened, “H-have you?”

 

Aomine’s father nodded absently, “Daiki talked about you just about non-stop in high school, mostly about your performance on the basketball court; how much you’d improved, how you were able to beat him in the Winter Cup…”

 

Kagami shifted his weight, “He beats me, usually…”

 

Aomine blinked, not expecting that from the person whose pride would normally prevent him from admitting any such thing, and broke into a hesitant smirk, “In team games, yeah, but one-on-one we’re pretty evenly matched.”

 

And he would be damned if that wasn’t one of the most thrilling things he’d ever experienced, to have someone who could so completely match him at every turn, and respond to his movements almost like he was battling his own reflection, with an insider’s understanding and a primal, animal instinct that coalesced so perfectly with his own.

 

His father paused, and Aomine imagined he could see his tongue poking into his cheek, “He also tells me the two of you are in a relationship…”

 

“I didn’t say _that_ ,” Aomine argued without thinking, before catching a questioning look from Kagami and amending the statement, “But...um...yeah, I guess we are.”

 

“And is it also true that Daiki has gotten you pregnant, Kagami-kun?”

 

Kagami blanched, likely not expecting to be asked so directly, and for a moment his mouth worked soundlessly as he struggled for words, before he flushed spectacularly to the roots of his hair and just nodded wordlessly.

 

Bringing a hand to his lips, resting his knuckles against his mouth in consideration, his father looked Kagami up and down with one slow, ceaseless sweep of his too-familiar, piercing indigo eyes. “You don’t seem to be showing yet; maybe without the shirt...how did you find out?”

 

“U-uh...no, it’s...only been a couple weeks,” Kagami mumbled, looking stubbornly down, as if finding particular fascination with the floorboards, “And um...a couple days ago I was in the hospital because…” he glanced at Aomine and trailed off.

 

Aomine sighed, “He was sick, but I asked him to play ball anyway, and he fell and hit his head,” he explained, his words short and clipped, and not devoid of the gnawing guilt he still associated with the event, whatever Kagami had said about it being his own fault.

 

His father’s gaze immediately cut to Kagami’s forehead, where the stitches mostly hidden by his bangs had not yet dissolved. “I see...well, you’re lucky it was so minor; overestimating yourself in your condition could have led to much worse.”

 

Kagami visibly squirmed, and Aomine wasn’t sure if it was because he was still uncomfortable with hearing references to that alleged condition, or because he was being indirectly admonished for his recklessness by an authority figure, and felt guilty because of that.

 

“Why don’t you both sit down?” Aomine’s father invited, gesturing to the dining room before starting in that direction, indicating for them to follow. “So Daiki, I assume because you brought Kagami-kun here, you’ve come to a decision as far as your role in the situation?”

 

“I...yeah,” Aomine said softly, taking a seat and folding his arms against the table. He waited for his father and Kagami to also sit down before going on, exhaling slowly, “I’m...staying with him, and we’re gonna do this together. Whatever happens.”

 

His father raised his eyebrows just enough for the look on his face to register as surprise, and then reached up to stroke his chin thoughtfully, “That’s a very big responsibility to take on. I can see you’re convicted, Daiki, and that you care about Kagami-kun’s well being, but have you taken the time to consider what _will_ happen?”

 

Aomine faltered, caught off guard by the question, and the certainty in it, “Uh...s-sort of? Neither of us really know...what to expect.”

 

His father sighed, templing his fingers and resting his hands against the edge of the table as he looked between the two of them. “...I suppose that’s where I come in.”

 

Aomine exchanged a fleeting glance with Kagami, and then nodded twice.

 

“Alright then. Both of you listen up; I’ll tell you exactly what you’ve gotten yourselves into.”

 

TBC

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((And now, after over a year and fourteen whole chapters, we can finally get this party started. Say goodbye to this uncertain, fragile little time frame, folks; in the next chapter, we're forging ahead!  
> Thanks for reading, and just a friendly reminder that comments give me life. Feed the author!))


	15. Chapter 15

“I got these for you,” Kagami looked up from where he was crouched on one knee, tying his shoe as he prepared to warm up for practice. Aomine had walked up behind him and placed a bag of what looked like candies on the bench. He frowned in confusion and examined the impromptu gift.

 

“Ginger?” He asked as he looked over the label, glancing over at him perplexedly, half-expecting a trap, or at the very least a prank.

 

“Yeah, um...I know you’ve been feeling sick a lot more lately; I asked my old man, he said eating those might help.”

 

Kagami started to scowl -- a force of habit whenever Aomine brought up anything related to his...condition in public -- but in the end he just closed his eyes and sat down on the bench with a sigh.

 

Nine weeks. Almost a month and a half had passed since he’d been in the hospital, and found out he was pregnant...and it was getting harder to ignore. It was true that he felt nauseous much more frequently now than ever before -- inciting him to believe the term “morning sickness” carried a fair amount of bullshit, because lately it had been morning, noon, and night sickness -- but more pressing than that was the fatigue; he felt dead tired for the majority of the day, and had been falling asleep in class worse than when he was training for the Inter-High. He was sluggish in the morning and wiped out by the time he went to bed, and had been falling behind noticeably in practice as well. And in light of all this, he was beginning to contemplate the hard decision of no longer attending. He hadn’t discussed the possibility with the coach or Aomine yet, but eventually, he realized, there was going to come a time when he just couldn’t keep this up. Hell, he could barely keep it up as it was.

 

“Thanks,” he said, setting the ginger candies back on the bench and getting to his feet, shifting uncomfortably in his shoes that had been feeling entirely too tight and hot this past week. Yet another factor tipping him towards taking a break from practice for an indefinite amount of time, at least until the insanity that was going on in his body sorted itself out...or maybe quitting the team altogether; a prospect he faced with considerably more dread.

 

Aomine shrugged, “‘s nothing...” Drawing up alongside him, as they both faced the gymnasium that was alive with squeaking shoes and swishing nets, he discreetly sought out Kagami’s gaze with his own, concerned blue one, “You okay?”

 

“You’ve already filled your quota of asking that for today,” Kagami muttered out of the side of his mouth, elbowing him lightly in the ribs with a brief flash of teasing. “I’m fine. Let’s play some ball.”

 

Aomine showed him his teeth and nodded determinedly, and they took to the court together, Kagami refusing to show how stiff and exhausted he still was as he diligently went through the first set of drills, pushing past the minor difficulties and telling himself resolutely that it wasn’t so bad. It was only after he’d missed his fourth free throw in a row and nearly collapsed flat on his ass when he landed after a dunk -- his aching ankles protesting viciously as they attempted to absorb the shock -- that he stopped for a moment, and allowed himself to recognize that the deadline for him no longer being able to play was not just approaching terrifyingly quickly...it was already upon him.

 

This was it, then. Shooting a glance at Aomine across the gym, in time to see him expertly maneuver the ball around a series of traffic cones before tossing it effortlessly, almost lazily through the hoop, he sighed deeply, shoulders slumping, and slowly walked off the court and back to the bench, sitting down with his hands between his knees and hanging his head. He ruefully acknowledged that he would be completely useless to his team right now, useless to Aomine, and though he desperately wanted to keep playing, it wasn’t fair for them to have to slow down for him and put up with his increasingly pathetic performances. For their sake, and his own, he was going to have to resign.

 

Trying not to envision the inevitable disappointment that would come into Aomine’s eyes when he told him this, he started idly wondering what he was going to do with the extra time on his hands. He would still attend his academic courses for as long as he could, but if he stopped coming to practice, he would have almost the entire afternoon to himself. He supposed he could try to get a job; he’d been depending on the money his father provided him since high school, for rent and groceries and the like, but there was no reason he couldn’t start earning some of his own. ...Except that he would just have to quit a few months after getting hired, since he was pretty sure guys didn’t exactly get maternity leave.

 

 _Shit._ Clenching his teeth with frustration, he fisted his hands in his basketball shorts and came to the gradual, infuriating conclusion that there was nothing he could do...and though Aomine had offered his help and support, in many respects he was still on his own in this. He wouldn’t make Aomine quit the team just because he did, or stop going to practice -- though he had been extremely prone to that in high school, especially during his first year, before he was beaten by Kagami in the Winter Cup. Just thinking about being forced to sit on his hands and...what, _crochet_ or some shit for months on end while he was unable to do strenuous exercise made Kagami feel horribly restless; he couldn’t even imagine what it would do to Aomine if he were to do the same.

 

And what would happen after this was all over? Would he go back to practicing and playing in games once he recovered his strength? Would he even be able to, if he had to take care of a baby on top of everything else?

 

 _Jesus Christ, I’m going to have a baby._ Slumping forward with a groan, he hid his face in his hands, elbows against his knees, and tangled his fingers in his bangs. He’d thought about it before, of course, but every time the reality of it surfaced, it hit him like a goddamn freight train, and some stubborn, protesting part of his brain still tried to insist it was impossible...after everything.

 

And, try though he might, he still couldn’t picture Aomine being as willing to go along for the ride as he appeared to be now in a couple months. He hadn’t flinched when his father had laid all that was in store for them out, over a month ago, and he hadn’t backed down from his decision to stick with Kagami and, allegedly, raise the kid together...if anything his conviction only seemed to have strengthened, and it was getting a little annoying how often he asked if Kagami was okay or if there was anything he could do to help...but Kagami could very easily see that wearing off.

 

Neither of them knew the first thing about raising a child, for starters, and aside from that...even though Aomine had said he liked Kagami a lot, maybe even loved him, Kagami wasn’t convinced that would be enough of a reason for him to give up the rest of the freedom of his young adult life and be a parent. Sure, staying with Kagami through everything and seeing this through with him was a nice idea, but he seriously doubted Aomine would be able or willing to deal with the reality, when it came down to it. They hadn’t really seen concrete evidence yet that it was a reality, beyond Kagami’s frequent spells of illness and discomfort; so it was still a rather uncertain, almost hypothetical idea for both of them to grasp, that this was going to be their future. The only thing Kagami knew for certain was that whatever it entailed, it was going to get a lot worse before it got better, and was going to try in earnest to take everything in his life that brought him joy away. Starting, but probably not ending, with his ability to play the game he loved.

.

 

.

 

“Well shit, something’s really bugging you,” Aomine remarked, not for the first time tonight. Kagami had hardly said a word to him since practice had ended, and had walked with him in silence back to the dorm, despite Aomine’s repeated attempts to start conversation or dig out what was so deep under his skin.

 

Rolling onto the bed, Kagami let out an explosive exhale and threw an arm over his eyes, turning the room dark and blocking out Aomine’s concerned, frustrated face, looking down at him.

 

“Kagami, come on,” he pressed, the bed shifting slightly as he sat down on the edge of it, “Don’t keep me in the dark with this, what happened? ...Talk to me.”

 

Kagami took a deep, controlled breath and let it out slowly. “I’m resigning from the team.”

 

Aomine said nothing at first, and then his voice broke into the silence again, dismissively, “Is that all?”

 

Kagami sat up abruptly, fixing him with a glare, “What do you mean ‘is that all’?”

 

Aomine hesitated a second, and then shrugged, “I’ve...kind of expected you to quit for a couple weeks now. Your form sucks lately and you’re struggling to keep up in _practice,_ how would you handle a real game?”

 

Kagami swallowed down several angry retorts and just sighed again, lowering his head, “You’re right. I just...I want to keep playing. I want one more game, one more chance; I don’t want it to be over this quickly.”

 

Aomine scooted a little closer to him, but didn’t touch or try to meet his gaze, “You toughed it out for two whole months and still came to practice even when you felt like shit. You kept playing, even when you probably should’ve just quit while you were ahead and stopped pushing yourself. And it doesn’t have to be over...not forever, anyway, this is...just a setback for a little while, right?”

 

“I guess so,” Kagami agreed dully, frowning to himself as he pulled his knees up to his chest, “But I don’t think I’ll be rejoining the team after...this is all over.”

 

Aomine was quiet for a moment, and then cast him a sideways, rather wry glance, “...I probably won’t be either.”

 

Kagami caught the implication that he was also going to quit, then. “What? Why would...? You --”

 

Closing the remaining distance between them, Aomine placed a soft kiss on his lips to silence his baffled stammering, “‘Cause I’ll have a kid to take care of, won’t I?”

 

Kagami stared at him, mouth hanging open, for a couple of seconds, and then leaned over, lips still slightly parted, and kissed him back, slow and hard and thorough. Aomine grunted and pushed him back gently, sprawling between his thighs and lapping and sucking at his mouth eagerly, as his hands passed over his hips to slip under his shirt….and stopped. Breaking the heated kiss abruptly, Aomine looked down at Kagami for a moment, his expression falling somewhere between shock and dawning, distracted awe.

 

“...What?”

 

His voice was little more than a rasp when he took Kagami’s wrist in his other hand and guided it to his waist, “Look.”

 

Kagami’s fingers traced hesitantly over the shallow bump nestled there, the almost imperceptible curve and softness conflicting with with the hard, lean muscle that made up the rest of his body. “What...I know --” he started to say, but Aomine shushed him and dipped his head down, smoothing his calloused palms reverently over Kagami’s belly as amazement bloomed across his face, a short breath huffing from him as his mouth kicked up into a disbelieving, almost startled smile.

 

“It’s real…” he murmured, voice hoarse and hushed, “You really...we really… H-holy shit…”

 

Kagami’s eyebrows furrowed, and he sat up halfway, bracing his weight on his elbows, trying to meet Aomine’s gaze, which he kept trained on the tiny swell beneath his exploring fingers, seeming unable to decide between wonder and something like giddy panic. “...Aomine?”

 

Aomine sucked in a breath and dropped his head entirely, forehead resting against Kagami’s stomach, “We made this...” he whispered softly, slightly muffled, but Kagami still heard him, “We made...th-this is _ours_ , Kagami, oh my God…”

 

Kagami felt something wet land on his skin, and hesitantly reached down to place his hands on his roommate’s trembling shoulder blades. “You didn’t know?” he asked tentatively, a little confused by Aomine’s apparent astonishment. He himself had already mapped the slight, gradual change of his body over the course of the last few weeks, but this looked like Aomine’s first time seeing it.

 

Aomine shook his head, and wrapped his arms tighter around Kagami’s waist, pressing his cheek against his belly as if he could hear the tiny, brand new heartbeat emanating from inside. “It’s real,” he repeated, voice slightly steadier but no less blown away than before.

 

“I...yeah,” Kagami said slowly, solidifying the truth of it in his own mind and quashing the stubbornly remaining, niggling little insistence that it was impossible -- that it _had_ to be impossible -- once and for all. “...I guess it is.”

 

TBC

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

Aomine couldn’t sleep. He lay awake for hours that night, looking up at the ceiling with his arms folded under his head, consumed by his own thoughts. The same could not be said for Kagami, who had been out like a light almost immediately after eating dinner, not even taking the time to change out of the the clothes he’d worn for practice, and was currently snoring softly into his pillow, his warm, solid back fitted snugly up against Aomine’s side. Aomine refused to toss or turn or even shift to get more comfortable for fear of disturbing him. He lay completely still, rarely blinking, but in contrast, his mind was racing.

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, earlier that evening. What he’d discovered that...really shouldn’t have come as such a shock, honestly, but had ruthlessly shook him to the core nonetheless. It was the first actual, irrefutable evidence he’d seen that this was real. This was happening. Even after he’d professed to believe what Kagami had told him about his condition, even after he’d offered to stay and provide for him in light of that, it still hadn’t completely sunk in what that was going to mean for him...for both of them. Not until now.

 

All at once, it had sunk in that there was a fragile, tiny life growing inside of Kagami, a life he’d helped create that was made of both of them, belonged to both of them, and was both of their responsibility. All at once, it had sunk in that this would change the rest of their lives; this would _be_ the rest of their lives. All the possibilities for the future they could have together were contained in that subtle, but devastating little bump seated just above Kagami’s hips. They were going to have a baby. And even though it wasn’t even close to being born yet...in that moment, all at once, it had sunk in that one day it would be. And all at once, Aomine had found himself suddenly, fervently wishing it would be. Wishing he could see the child he and Kagami had made somehow, miraculously, together.

 

Of course, he also realized that he would have to get his shit together, and fast, before that day came. He remembered what his father had explained was going to be happening from here on out, and while Kagami seemed to be coming to terms -- rather forcibly -- with the fact that this was going to hugely impact his life, this was just the beginning; not being able to play basketball for awhile would soon be the least of his worries. And while he had all of that on his plate and was caught up with taking care of himself and his changing body, and the gradually growing life inside it, what was Aomine going to do?

 

Keeping things the way they were wasn’t an option. At least, it wouldn’t be for much longer. For starters, he couldn’t keep going to class and practice the way he had been, and be separated from Kagami for so much of the day. What if something happened, and he was too far away or too preoccupied to help? In the middle of a lecture, or a game? He would need to either significantly free up his schedule, or find a more reliable way to keep in contact with Kagami during the day. Besides that, his current modes of transportation were hardly appropriate for the circumstances, if what had happened when Kagami had busted his head open and needed to be taken to the hospital was any indication, when Aomine had been unable to do anything except wait and frantically call for someone to come pick him up. He was probably going to need his own car, then. And on top of all that, staying in this cramped dorm room when they were eventually, someday going to be a party of three was not ideal in the slightest. They would need more space, and more distance than these thin plaster walls between them and their neighbours, because one thing he knew for certain about babies was that they were freaking loud.

 

He supposed he could try to work something out with his dad; maybe he would let them stay with him for awhile, until they could manage something more permanent. Or maybe they could move into Kagami’s old apartment; if his father was still paying the rent and bills for the place and no one was currently using it, they might as well. Either way, though, it would mean moving clear across Tokyo and uprooting the loose, kind of unstable lifestyle they had going here. He supposed that was pretty inevitable at this point. Things were never going to be the same again from here on out.

 

And as he glanced over at his peacefully slumbering roommate, he came to the slow, but surprisingly certain conclusion that he was okay with that. This wasn’t going to be a smooth road. It was going to be challenging, and confusing, and probably exhausting and sometimes uncomfortable or painful for both of them, but in spite of that, he believed wholeheartedly that the person sleeping beside him -- who had already changed his life and changed him as a person once, and was about to do it again -- was worth it.

 

.

 

.

 

He as good as got to watch the sun rise, still lost in thought and anything but tired, though he had been up the whole night pondering and planning, and sorting things out in his head...and it was only after the pale light filtering gradually through the window had illuminated the whole bed and was starting to make its way across the floor that Kagami stirred, rolling onto his back and squinting open his eyes, blinking a few times before turning his head and glancing blearily over at Aomine.

 

Unable to resist, Aomine leaned over and placed a very light, very brief kiss on his lips, breaking into a slight grin as Kagami blinked again and looked at him in half-asleep surprise.

 

“Morning sunshine,” he snickered, sitting up with exaggerated care so as not to jolt the bed and antagonize the nausea that generally greeted Kagami upon waking these days. Slowly, Kagami pushed himself up as well, covering his eyes with a hand and yawning widely.

 

“What’re you doing up this early?” he muttered, his voice slightly dry and muzzy with lingering sleep, “Usually I have to...drag you out of bed just to get you to out the door before noon.”

 

“Hmm, maybe I’m becoming a morning person,” Aomine shrugged teasingly.

 

Kagami snorted, “You? Yeah, right. Don’t let any flying pigs hit you on your way to class.”

 

Aomine held his gaze for a moment, patiently waiting for it to focus on him, “...I’m not going to class.”

 

“What?” Kagami blinked, the last dregs of blurry fatigue seeming to vanish from him as he tensed.

 

“Neither are you,” Aomine went on calmly, pushing the blankets off his legs and getting to his feet, “We’ve got more important things to do today.”

 

Kagami still seemed uncomprehending, exasperatedly pressing his knuckles to his forehead as if trying to understand Aomine was giving him a headache. “Such as?”

 

“Well for starters,” Aomine said, stretching his arms over his head and feeling -- despite the night’s conflicted insomnia -- rejuvenated with energy at the prospect of finally having a plan...a direction to go in. “We’re gonna set up an appointment for you with that doctor from before -- just so he can check you over and make sure everything’s cool with you and Daiki Junior,” he added as Kagami’s face turned hard and skeptical.

 

“...Daiki Junior?” There was disbelief, but also a note of danger in Kagami’s voice; enough to tell Aomine to either change the subject quickly or face his impending doom.

 

“Then we’re gonna meet with my dad again,” Aomine hurried to say, getting the hint loud and clear, “And figure out where we’re going.”

 

“Where we’re going…?” Kagami echoed blankly, moving over to the edge of the bed but not getting up from it, “What do you mean?”

 

“Well we sure as hell ain’t staying here,” Aomine said levelly, facing him and propping his hands on his hips, “Either we’re moving in with him or getting a place of our own, but we’re not gonna wait around to hit the road while we still can.”

 

Kagami simply stared at him, seeming completely stumped. “....What the hell have you been smoking, Ahomine? You’re talking nonsense.”

 

Aomine paused, considering the possibility that he really was just deliriously raving with sleep-deprived insanity, and then shook his head with a light, amused sigh, “No, I’m talking _sense_ , Bakagami, for probably the first time since I got you in this mess.”

 

Something in that phrasing seemed to catch Kagami’s interest, and, expression going sober, he tipped his head to the side slightly...though he couldn’t have known how that little action made him look stupidly, ridiculously adorable. Aomine had to restrain himself from telling him as much, not wanting to risk Kagami’s attention to the serious subject at hand when he’d finally snared it.

 

“Kagami,” he said, all traces of humor and teasing gone, “We can’t stay here; it can’t stay like this. We need a better plan, for you and the kid, and we need it pretty fucking quick.”

 

Kagami took his lower lip between his teeth, dropping his dark red gaze to the floor for a moment contemplatively; thinking it over, Aomine decided, before looking back up at him. “...What about you?”

 

Aomine blinked, “What?”

 

“Where do you fit into this? Are you driving here, or just along for the ride?”

 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Aomine sighed exasperatedly, “How many times do we have to go over this?” Lowering his hand, he fixed Kagami with a steadfast, unwavering look, “I’ve already told you I’m sticking with you and I’ll do whatever you need me to do. You’d better get used to it, ‘cause you’re not getting rid of me.”

 

Kagami’s teeth flashed between his scowling lips, “Prove it.”

 

For a moment, Aomine just stared at him, at a loss for words, reading the roiling, conflicted haze in those burning crimson eyes.

 

“I _love_ you,” he said at last, spreading his hands in a helpless, defeated gesture, “What, do you want me to get on one knee and propose?” Kagami barely had time to open his mouth before he was cut off, “‘Cause if that’s what it takes to convince you I’m serious, then hell with it…” And right then and there, he dropped to kneel on the floor, looking up at his roommate with an adamant, nearly bullheaded surge of conviction.

 

Kagami didn’t say anything, sitting on the edge of the bed like it was actually the edge of a cliff; his eyes had gone very wide, and his face was ashen.

 

“Since this is kind of gonna bring us together for better or worse and all that shit anyway,” Aomine said flatly, though underneath the rigidity  his voice was still charged with intent and determination,“You might as well marry me, dumbass, so we can do this thing properly.”

 

He’d considered this as a very real possibility at some point during the sleepless night he’d weathered, and though it was an enormous, almost staggering level of commitment that just about scared the living daylights out of him, he still found that he wasn’t even slightly averse to the idea. Admittedly, skipping from fuck-buddies right to fiancées seemed like a bit of a drastic leap too, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t find anything wrong or unacceptable with the idea of spending the rest of his life by Kagami’s side, however possible...as long as the idiot would have him there.

 

Still wide-eyed and pale, Kagami slowly leaned forward, getting off the edge of the bed and opening his mouth slightly as if he intended to say something, to answer one way or the other and either cinch or break the final tie that had the power to link their futures together...before quickly covering it with one hand and dashing unsteadily to the bathroom, leaving Aomine kneeling in the middle of the floor, with possibly the biggest question he’d ever brought himself to ask in his life left unanswered...incomplete. He was silent a moment, dropping his gaze to his own hand resting on his bent knee, and then sighed heavily and pushed himself up on it, standing up and following after the ailing redhead, just as the wet, visceral sounds of vomiting reached his ears.

 

“You have...without a doubt...the worst timing ever,” he muttered without heat as he leaned against the doorjamb, casting Kagami a sympathetic look as he paused in his heaving and spasming to glance at him over his shoulder, eyes scrunched and hazy, forehead pricked with a sheen of sweat.

 

“S-sorry --” Kagami stammered weakly, before hunching over the toilet again and proceeding to empty his stomach’s contents into the bowl.

 

Aomine sniffed with a gentle hint of teasing, “Wasn’t talking to you,” he smirked to himself, as Kagami would be unable to see it, “I was talking to Daiki Junior...he’s growing into quite the little cockblocker, that’s twice now.”

 

Kagami went completely still for a moment; one arm still leaning against the rim of the toilet, breathing still harsh and uneven between bouts of puking, but from what Aomine could see of his face, he seemed to be thinking hard. After a minute or so of silence, he sat down instead of kneeling, resting his hands behind him on the tile floor.

 

“It could be a she, you know,” he pointed out, voice only wobbling slightly.

 

Aomine shrugged noncommittally, “Yeah, but until we know for sure or you give me something else to work with, he’s Daiki Junior to me.”

 

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Aomine blinked, caught off guard by that, and the fact that, though somewhat tired and dull, Kagami sounded entirely serious.

 

“...For what?”

 

“For snapping at you, and...pushing you.” Rubbing a hand exhaustedly over his sweaty face, he slumped and let out a low sigh, “I wasn’t thinking.”

 

Aomine didn’t say anything until he looked up, and when he did, he rewarded him with a small, but genuine grin, “Hey, I was born to be challenged, Bakagami. ...And I’ll be damned if I’ve ever seen you think about anything anyway.”

 

Kagami scowled at him, but the offended expression was belied by the faint, grateful glow that came into his eyes, softening them considerably and only making them more gorgeous, in Aomine’s not-so-humble opinion.

 

“Think you can handle getting dressed without puking on any of your clothes?” he asked, offering a hand to help him to his feet, “Or maybe you should take a shower before we go anywhere today.”

 

Kagami looked at his extended hand, palm turned up, for a count of several seconds, some unknown decision flickering across his face and seeming to solidify in his mind.

 

“Yes.”

 

The corner of Aomine’s mouth lifted slightly with amusement, “Yes to getting dressed, or yes to the shower?”

 

Kagami took his hand, but didn’t use it to get up, simply lacing their fingers together. Aomine’s eyebrows rose, and then slowly furrowed as he searched the dead-serious chestnut eyes boring into him.

 

 _“Yes,_ Aomine.” Kagami pressed insistently, and suddenly it clicked.

 

Shock hit Aomine with the force of a well-placed punch, and his mouth dropped open, his hand going limp and unresponsive in Kagami’s firm grasp.

 

“Y-yes?” he echoed, and no, his voice definitely did not pitch almost into a squeak when he finally got the word out. He cleared his throat as laughter danced to life in Kagami’s gaze and he started to smirk. “You...you mean it? You really --”

 

Kagami did get to his feet then, rolling his eyes and lightly poking Aomine in the cheek, “What part of ‘yes’ don’t you understand, moron?”

 

Then he turned away without another word, letting go of Aomine’s hand to move over to the single-stall shower, reaching in to switch on the water. Aomine could only stand frozen for a short eternity, jaw slack and eyes on the verge of falling out of his head, because oh. _Oh._

 

The last few seconds played back in his mind, and he came to the conclusion that no, they hadn’t just been a very vivid hallucination conjured by a severe lack of sleep on his part. Which meant…

 

_Holy shit._

 

Well, he thought to himself, with just a hint of slightly-panicked resignation...he’d really gone and done it now.

 

TBC

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Accidental proposals are the best kind, don't you think?
> 
> ...I think I like this chapter. Not least because I finally got one done at a decent hour so I don't have to stay up until the ass-crack of dawn editing and publishing before I go to school in the morning. Also Aomine's just a lot of fun to narrate for.
> 
> And if y'all are like me and want more of these dorks dealing with similar shit together, mazzie-nita has written a wonderful little AoKaga mpreg ficlet over on tumblr. Here's a link: http://honeyaokagaismylife.tumblr.com/post/134232720502/
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and sticking with me, comments are always lovely!))


	17. Chapter 17

Kagami’s breath misted before him as hot jets of water cascaded down his back, loosening tension from his muscles and easing the ache that had beset him since yesterday’s practice, and probably before. The shower stall was only just large enough for one person, otherwise he suspected Aomine might have offered to join him in it. Then again, maybe it was better that they both got a moment alone to think about the recent exchange, considering Aomine had looked like what Kagami had said had caused his brain to spontaneously explode. Too many shocks for his fragile little system to process one right after the other, probably.

 

Kagami snorted, tipping his head back to allow the spray to drench his face and hair. That idiot sure knew how to pick his timing; Kagami had barely been able to properly register the fact that he’d just been proposed to -- admittedly in a very crude, unrehearsed, _Aomine_ way -- with his stomach clenching and churning and trying to crawl into his throat, as it tended to pretty often first thing in the morning. Once he’d taken care of the problem, though, it had sunk in what he’d been asked, and he’d taken a moment to seriously consider the possibility. Aomine had seemed pretty certain, almost casual, as he blatantly suggested Kagami spend the rest of his life with him, like it wasn’t even a big deal. But it was. They both knew it was, clearly indicated by the way Aomine’s jaw had immediately dropped and those narrow, lazy blue eyes had gone wide and blank with shock when Kagami decided -- _fuck it_ \-- to accept his offer.

 

He could vividly picture his roommate brooding over it on the other side of the room, maybe pacing, probably with that deep line of consternation denting the skin between his eyebrows he got the few times Kagami had seen him stressed or anxious. He could empathize, even if currently he didn’t allow the idea to fully take root in his mind, for the sake of his moment of relaxation. Forever was a scary thing to think about, especially when even the immediate future seemed so uncertain for both of them, in light of recent events. Neither of them could afford to just wing it and hope things worked out okay in the end, with such high, delicate stakes on the line. Pretty soon it wouldn’t just be about them anymore. So he supposed he understood Aomine’s apparent drive to handle business now, while they could still focus on things like solidifying their tentative relationship and finding proper housing, before the baby could come along and shove everything else aside, becoming the sole priority, the very center of their lives.

 

Sighing low and silent, Kagami lowered his head and rested his hands lightly on the gentle, almost imperceptible swell of his own abdomen. If he were only looking, he would say that he just hadn’t been working out in a while and some of his rigidly carved musculature was starting to go to flab, but there was something different about touching; the little bump was soft in comparison to the hard, coiled steel of his muscles, but tight and firm as his skin stretched taut around it. The area was sensitive, sometimes achy or uncomfortable, and undoubtedly part of him, but even as he smoothed his fingers over it now, it still didn’t feel real. Because some facet of his mind still insisted it shouldn’t have been. And yet he couldn’t deny it to himself anymore...not now.

 

He had noticed, today, that Aomine had suddenly started to directly reference not just the fact that Kagami was pregnant, but the fact that it meant there was actually something inside of him, something alive, and one day that something would become a real, living and breathing baby, with fingers and toes and a face and a mind...their child. It was still so incredible, so _insane_ to think about, but it seemed like Aomine had -- sometime between the night before and this morning -- completely and unquestioningly accepted it, even going so far as to give it a name. _His_ name.

 

“‘Daiki Junior’, tch,” Kagami muttered irritably, still absently caressing the subtle little bulge at his waist, unconsciously addressing it as he spoke, “As if. Don’t let that dumbass rub off on you, alright? Even if he is your dad…”

 

As it slipped out, the thought materialized completely in his mind, and he straightened and bit his lip, considering it. Aomine, a father? Raising a child? Would he even be capable of such a task, never mind any good at it? Personally, he couldn’t think of a worse candidate for the job. ...Then again, he supposed he ought to take a look in the mirror before throwing any accusations of inadequacy around.

 

In a lot of ways, he thought, he and Aomine were still just dumb kids themselves; stubborn and immature and impulsive and selfish, both prone to throwing tantrums, on occasion, and they bickered and shouted and shoved each other like children more than they communicated like civil adults. How could either of them hope to be a responsible parent, a source of wisdom and guidance, a positive role model for a child to look up to? They could barely handle their own shit without throwing in someone else’s...let alone someone as impressionable and innocent and helpless as a child that would feed off their influence and soak up their lessons, good or bad, like a freaking sponge. It was impossible not to think of the millions of tiny ways the two of them could screw up; easily, probably inevitably and irreversibly, potentially damaging and scarring the kid for life.

 

And yet...Aomine had asked, with complete confidence and sincerity, for Kagami to marry him, not even an hour ago. He had said he loved him again, totally sober and -- as far as Kagami could tell -- in his right mind this time, with all the faculties present. He hadn’t backed down or shrank away once, over the course of this entire month; had endured Kagami’s temper and insults and questions and doubts, often without even fighting back, and had stuck with him even when he was forced to stop playing the sport that enlivened and united them both, even when he was on his knees throwing up his insides, probably at his most vulnerable and unattractive...and had still smiled and teased him and offered to help him. So...Kagami supposed he didn’t really have a choice at this point but to believe him. And believe that this would work out, that they could pull this off, even with the incessant worry gnawing and pulling at his stomach and chest trying in earnest to convince him otherwise.

 

.

 

.

“You took your time,” Aomine observed as Kagami stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel vigorously over his wet red hair, another tied around his waist to preserve his modesty. Which...really shouldn’t have been necessary with Aomine, who had seen him nude pretty damn often these past few months, but he still couldn’t bring himself to just parade around with nothing on...unlike Aomine, who was occasionally prone to it and seemed perfectly comfortable in his dusky skin.

 

“I was thinking,” he muttered, balling up the first towel and pitching it across the room, making the shot into the laundry basket six feet away without even looking.

 

“Huh. Never thought I’d see the day,” Aomine smirked cunningly, apparently never able to resist a jab at the statement. Kagami sighed and decided against retorting, plucking a fresh shirt from the pile of clean laundry on the table and pulling it over his head.

 

“You must’ve had a lot on your mind too...” he suggested slowly instead, casting about for the mature thing to say as he stripped off the second towel only to quickly replace it with a pair of boxers. Aomine blinked, as if he hadn’t expected the calm, almost subdued response.

 

“I...yeah,” he said awkwardly, seeming uncomfortable and rubbing the back of his neck. Then his eyes flashed and he tried again, “I was thinking about how weird it is that a hardheaded little shit like you has a hidden romantic side. Didn’t know a Bakagami could be so suave.”

 

Kagami just shrugged without looking at him, slipping into his jeans and grabbing a sock, searching about distractedly for its partner.

 

“...Nothing?” Aomine asked after a moment, and Kagami could just about hear the frown in his voice, “What’s eating you? Did you...rethink what you said earlier? Is that it?”

 

“No,” Kagami said, glancing up at him as he pulled his socks onto his feet.

 

“Then what’s your deal? You’re being really...I dunno, stiff and formal or something. It’s creeping me out.”

 

Kagami hesitated a moment, wavering, and then slowly sat down next to him on the foot of the bed. “Aomine, you...know how you said it can’t stay like this? That we need a better plan for...for us and the kid?”

 

Aomine glanced at him, frustration and concern mixing oddly on his face as he nervously wet his lips, “Yeah...why?”

 

Kagami swallowed, “I think we...both need to do some growing up...start being serious, you know? So we can be proper p-parents when...when the time comes." Yeah, he stammered on that word, and he was sure Aomine must have caught it, but it was still such an unfamiliar, bordering on terrifying concept, such a huge responsibility for both of them to take on, and he still didn’t think they were ready. At this rate, he didn’t know if they would ever be.

 

Aomine’s brow knitted in a deep frown as his deceptively aloof gaze swept over him, taking every inch of him in and seeming to study him, more closely and seriously than anything he might have been asked to study in school.

 

“...Yeah,” he agreed, seeming tentative, before his expression seemed to loosen some and he nudged Kagami with his shoulder, “But that doesn’t mean you have to turn into a mindless robot that can’t take a joke or sass me back like usual. Proper or not, it’s not fair to you or the kid if you can’t ever lighten up and be yourself.”

 

“But...we...what if…?” Kagami protested, gesturing with his hands uselessly when words failed him.

 

“Jeez, and I thought _I_ was worrying too much,” Aomine sighed, reaching over and flicking him in the forehead, “It’ll be fine, Bakagami. Neither of us is straightlaced or ‘proper’ and pretending we are is gonna mess with the kid worse than if we just acted like we normally would...even if that means teasing and cussing and getting into stupid little fights over everything. That’s just us.”

 

Kagami looked at him for a moment, and then shook his head before rolling his eyes at him, “...I expected I’d get a ‘be yourself’ speech more from Kuroko than from you, dumbass.”

 

A pleased grin flitted across Aomine’s face, and he leaned in to press a quick, snickering kiss to his lips, “Good to have you back...asshole,” he added with a wide, taunting smirk.

 

“Bastard.”

 

“Moron.”

 

“Dickhead.”

 

Aomine blinked, and burst out laughing, throwing his head back and shoving Kagami lightly with one hand, “Alright, maybe don’t use _that_ one in front of the kid.”

 

Kagami recovered his balance and shot a humorous grin that he surprised even himself with at him, “All the more reason to use it now. Before Taiga Junior comes along.”

 

This apparently only increased Aomine’s amusement, and Kagami swore he saw him wipe a tear of hilarity from his eye as he was seized by laughter again. When it was over, he looked at Kagami with an attempt at a scowl, counteracted by the unrelenting smile that pulled at the corners of his lips, “Nice try. But Daiki Junior has a better ring to it, I think.”

 

“Yeah, well who cares what you think? You’re not the one who has to put up with the mood swings and the puking and the swollen feet and --”

 

“Alright alright, I get it,” Aomine interrupted, waving him off, “How about until we meet the guy -- or gal -- we just go with Junior, then?”

 

Kagami raised an eyebrow, with a veiled hint of sarcasm, “What’s this?” he drawled, “The great and powerful Aomine, asking for a compromise?”

 

“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” Aomine huffed, crossing one ankle over the other as he leaned back slightly, “This is just a special occasion ‘cause I’m in a good mood.”

 

“Huh. Why’s that?”

 

To his surprise, Aomine answered the question by subtly, unassumingly placing his hand on top of Kagami’s on the bed, lacing their fingers together, “No reason. I just feel like it, that’s all.”

 

Heart suddenly thundering in his ears, Kagami tried to meet his eye, only to see him tip his head back and close his eyes, seeming relaxed and content. It was such an odd image for him of all people to present, especially considering the circumstances. After a moment just watching him, soaking it in, he dropped his gaze back to his lap, not bothering to disconnect their joined hands.

 

“Hm,” he said after a moment, casually, “Come to think of it, Daiki Junior does kind of have a nice ring to it.”

 

Aomine’s reaction was immediate, and priceless; he sat bolt upright and his eyes flew wide as he seemed to choke for a second or two, staring at Kagami in shock as he finally caught his breath, panting unsteadily. Kagami showed no visible response to the outburst, simply shrugging his shoulders and looking away.

 

And then, gradually, Aomine started laughing again, softly at first but then louder and fuller, shaking his whole frame as he collapsed backwards on the bed and covered his eyes with his hands, rolling eventually onto his side and still giggling breathlessly.

 

“What?” Kagami asked, feigning innocence.

 

“Fuck, Kagami...” Was Aomine’s only response for a good few seconds, and then he sighed with a distant fragment of laughter at the edges, “You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days, you know that?”

 

“Maybe,” Kagami shrugged again, lying back with him and looking up at the ceiling, wrapping his arms lightly, almost protectively, around his stomach, “But you love me anyway, right?”

 

He felt Aomine tense against him, startled, and then his whole body seemed to relax and melt as he breathed out a much longer, slower sigh. “Yeah...I do.”

 

TBC

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Why I have such a hard time just advancing the plot of this story is beyond me. I can't seem to help slowing down and taking everybody's thoughts and emotional responses into account; it's probably getting kind of redundant at this point. Ah well, I'm not really in a rush to finish this story, so I suppose I can let it take its time and keep turning out these short, mostly uneventful chapters until I get enough of these two talking and teasing and figuring things out together.  
> Comments give me life, feed the author!))


	18. Chapter 18

The consistent swaying and stopping and starting of the subway didn’t help with Kagami’s nausea, which had been better after taking a shower, but almost as soon as he’d gotten on board had become aggravated again. He kept his gaze on the material of Aomine’s shirt in front of his face, watching it shift and expand as he breathed and subtly adjusted his balance to account for the shuddering and lurching of the floor under their feet. He got the feeling if he looked up or so much as glanced out the window, he’d lose the argument he was having with his stomach that now was not the time to void itself of what little he’d managed to eat this morning, that they’d been down that road once already today and once was enough. So he tried not to think, or move too much, hoping if he just kept steady and stagnant it would settle itself eventually.

 

“Here,” He blinked, jerked out of his self-imposed trance, as a large, tan hand thrust something at him, poking him in the chest with it until he absently raised his own free hand and took the ginger candy Aomine had presented him with.

 

He didn’t open his mouth to speak, for fear of what would come out of it if he did, but he gave Aomine a questioning look he thought got across pretty well.

 

Aomine shrugged, “You’ve been looking pretty green since we got on, I don’t want you blowing any chunks on me.”

 

Kagami wrinkled his nose at that phrasing, as that didn’t help his current situation at all, and placed the candy tentatively on his tongue, as if it might have been poison. Aomine casually looked away, gazing out the window at the scenery flashing by outside as if the gesture had meant nothing, or as if he hadn’t done anything in the first place, but Kagami still frowned to himself as he thought about it.

 

Often distracted, sidetracked, or simply too lazy to remember things, Aomine wasn’t one to think ahead or plan for the future. He lived in the moment, sometimes having a hard time even keeping up with what was going on in the present. And yet he’d taken precaution for Kagami’s sake just now, and been observant enough to notice that he still wasn’t feeling well. It spoke of a level of concern that Kagami didn’t think he’d really picked up on before; that Aomine had been so worried about his comfort and well being that it was, apparently, all he could think about. Or at least very high on his list of priorities, which was remarkable enough on its own.

 

 _Maybe he really does…_ The thought trailed off and he shifted his weight uncomfortably, turning the spicy-sweet candy over in his mouth and clicking it against his teeth thoughtfully. Twice now, in a matter of weeks, Aomine had flat-out said he loved Kagami, using the word and everything, and though Kagami had acknowledged and accepted that sentiment, he hadn’t gone out of his way to return it. He didn’t really think he needed to. He didn’t feel any pressure to. Aomine didn’t seem insecure or uncertain about his feelings; didn’t even seem to be waiting for it or trying to get him to say it. Absently, he wondered why.

 

Because he didn’t think Kagami returned it? Because he thought he _did_ , and just didn’t want to admit it? That didn’t seem right, and Aomine didn’t seem to be making any assumptions or guarantees about Kagami staying or wanting to be with him, though he’d pretty much promised he himself would stay as long as Kagami wanted him there. So then…why?

 

...Because it was a gift? Not a loan or an exchange? A plain, simple fact with no caveat, and Kagami’s feelings or opinions weren’t going to change it one way or the other? He simply loved Kagami, come what may, unconditionally?

 

He snorted to himself. That was stupid. Like mushy fairy tale crap or something, it didn’t really sound like Aomine. But as he looked up and glanced at the half-lidded, stormy blue eyes looking far away from him, unfocused and lost in thought, he still strangely felt like he was being watched...monitored, sort of. Like Aomine would react immediately, without even having to think about it, if something were to happen to him.

 

Well, okay...that was kind of odd. And unnecessary; he wasn’t in danger, and even if he was, he didn’t need anyone’s protection, least of all that idiot’s. He didn’t even really need his help, though he wasn’t ungrateful for it...the future seemed just a little bit less terrifying when he didn’t have to think about facing it alone, but that didn’t mean he was dependent on Aomine for anything. And yet, Aomine seemed to...think he was.

 

 _I only asked if you would take responsibility for the kid, not me, dumbass._ Though he supposed at this point, those two things kind of went hand in hand. Couldn’t exactly have one without the other right now. He resisted a sudden impulse to touch his stomach, to verify to himself -- an annoyingly frequent impulse, these days -- keeping his free hand in his pocket as he shot subtle, furtive glances at the man beside him, though he didn’t think Aomine noticed.

 

He supposed the fact that Aomine had proposed, and that Kagami had, in some fashion, accepted, meant that Aomine _was_ responsible for him to a degree. But despite Aomine’s apparent conviction, Kagami still felt a sense of leeway in the arrangement; like if he told Aomine tomorrow that he didn’t want to do it anymore, he would accept that, and back off with minimal protest. It felt...flexible, and strangely, more mature than he might have expected. Aomine seemed to have given this a lot of thought, and come to some conclusion, fairly recently.

 

Which he supposed was why they were returning to his old house to visit his father again, at this very moment. Aomine had said something about figuring out where they were going to go, sorting out some plan of action, but he suspected he already might have had some idea what that would entail. Without consulting with Kagami, which kind of rubbed him the wrong way. He wasn’t content to just sit back and let Aomine take the wheel -- not least because he got the feeling they would crash and burn pretty quickly if he did -- he wasn’t helpless...and he wasn’t anyone’s passenger. He would be sure to make Aomine aware of that, sooner rather than later.

.

 

.

 

He had been expecting it this time, so he didn’t flinch when he was met with a pair of piercing blue eyes that were almost identical to Aomine’s peering out of a face that was in some ways so familiar, and yet so foreign and alien, at the same time. Aomine’s father was unnerving, purely because he resembled his son so closely, and was still able to look and act like a perfect stranger, in spite of that. He seemed less wary and more welcoming of Kagami this time around, though, so he supposed that was a plus.

 

“We meet again, Kagami-kun,” he greeted him staidly, giving an acknowledging nod to Aomine and stepping back to let them in, “What can I do for you, this afternoon?”

 

Kagami opened his mouth to speak, but Aomine cut in before he could get out a word, “I need to talk to you. We...need to talk to you, about some stuff. See...things have been happening lately that’ve got us thinking about the future and stuff, and --”

 

“What things?” his father interrupted, casting what looked like a concerned glance in Kagami’s direction.

 

He and Aomine exchanged a look, a silent fragment of conversation, and Aomine lifted his shoulders slightly as if to say _‘your call…’_

 

Sighing, Kagami dropped his gaze to his own midriff, and then tentatively placed his own hands at his waist. He didn’t have to say anything, it turned out, because it seemed Aomine’s father was able to connect the dots.

 

“Ah. You’ve started to show, then?” his voice had taken on a gentler, almost sympathetic tone that didn’t suit it, and when Kagami absently inclined his head assent, it only got softer, “Don’t be alarmed...it’s only natural, and this is right where you should be, at a little over two months.”

 

“I’m quitting basketball,” he had to swallow hard after getting that sentence out -- a sentence he never thought he’d hear himself say in his life -- and caught Aomine’s flinch at the phrasing out of the corner of his eye. “...Until it’s over,” he added quickly, as an attempt to reassure himself and his long-standing rival and worthy opponent that he was about to lose...for an unknown length of time that would surely be torture for them both. He didn’t think it worked.

 

Aomine’s father nodded thoughtfully, “I should think so; engaging in rigorous physical activity in your condition is only going to get more dangerous from here on out. I wouldn’t say stop exercising entirely, in fact it might be beneficial for you to stay active, but as far as going through practice and playing in games...I’d strongly advise against it.”

 

“Could...could we still play one-on-one sometimes? F-for a little while longer, at least?” Aomine’s voice was quiet and uncharacteristically tentative, but with a tiny edge of hope to it that was almost painful to hear. He’d put on a dismissive smile before, when Kagami had been upset, and made it seem like not being able to play with him was no big deal, but he was clearly still struggling with the idea, likely remembering what it had been like to have no one who could stand against him, no outlet for the exuberance and energy and boundless talent that had the potential to seep from every pore of him. What it had been like to go through life like a dead man walking, disinterested in everyone and everything and putting up a wall of cold indifference to escape the agony of being so isolated. Listening to him now, Kagami could practically feel his fear of slipping back to that...maybe falling into a relapse.

 

“The way you play? I wouldn’t recommend it,” his father answered, impassively.

 

“I could --” Aomine pressed, a hint of desperation coming into his voice.

 

“I still don’t want you to go easy on me,” Kagami interrupted, unable to bring himself to look at him, but he thought his voice conveyed his regret and frustration just the same, “I wouldn’t ever want you to do that.”

 

“But…” Aomine began, faltering for a moment, and then he sighed deeply, “Okay. I understand.”

 

“Aomine --” Kagami started to argue as he sensed the resignation and bordering sorrow in those short, clipped words, raising his head to look at him only to find him looking down.

 

“No, forget I said anything,” he said quickly, hands deep in his pockets, “I was being stupid; of course we can’t.”

 

Kagami didn’t waver for a long moment, staring at him resolutely until he looked up, “...Well either way, don’t you dare slack off, _Aho_ mine. ‘Cause as soon as this is over you’re gonna get the match of your life, we’re talking full-on Zone and everything, and if you get your ass handed to you when I’m not even trying I’ll hold it over you forever and never let you live it down.”

 

For a second, Aomine’s entire face seemed to light up, and his teeth bared with a burst of wild determination and excitement that struck Kagami like a slap in the face, all but taking his breath away, “Yeah? Then it’s a date.” Before that blatant, confident statement could catch up with either of them and bring out embarrassment, he went on in a rush, his grin shifting into a teasing sneer, “But keep dreaming, _Baka_ gami; there’s no way that’s gonna happen. I’m not going down without giving everything I’ve got.”

 

Kagami let out a slow breath, feeling some part of him -- some part of both of them that was scared to death of being unable to bounce back from this to the way things were before -- relax slightly. “Good.”

 

A moment of silence reigned, unbroken but for the gears turning in the minds of every man in the room. Eventually, Aomine’s father spoke up.

 

“So why are you here?” he asked, his gaze switching back and forth between the two of them, “Surely you didn’t take a train all the way across Tokyo just for that.”

 

“No,” Aomine shook his head, sounding steadier and more assured than before. Kagami considered mentally patting himself on the back for that. “I uh...wanted to ask a favor, or...a couple favors, I guess. And I wanted to ask your advice on something.”

 

Aomine Senior’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he straightened to his full height, which was another trait he shared in common with his son, “Alright, shoot.”

 

Kagami felt a prickle of nerves, watching the calculating sweep of those inscrutable blue lasers. Their color and shape were the same, but unlike Aomine, who tended to be unobservant and slow to pick up even obvious hints and implications from people, just looking into his eyes Kagami could see this guy was sharp. _Really_ sharp. It occurred to him to wonder how Aomine hadn’t inherited or at least picked up on the blazing wit he could see in this man’s face over time, but then, he supposed neither of them were exactly smart. Not book smarts, anyway, but they were still both geniuses in their own way. Aomine’s special flair had always been for basketball, of course; Kagami wondered what his father’s focus might have been.

 

“Well I guess...I should start by saying Kagami and I are moving out of the dorm,” Aomine said slowly, carefully, maybe sensing the potential for danger in the air, “We’re gonna need more space, and neither of us is gonna have time for school, pretty soon.”

 

His father paused, and then nodded once or twice, approvingly, “I agree,” he murmured, but then, abruptly, his voice turned hard, “So you’re dropping out of college after only two months.”

 

“I kinda have to,” Aomine pointed out, keeping his head lowered respectfully, which was rather unlike him, even in the presence of authority, “I’m gonna try to get a job and take care of Kagami and our kid, and we’re gonna move back into this district...so we can be close to you and Tetsu and Satsuki --”

 

“Are you gonna tell her?” Kagami interjected, looking at him sideways and trying to read his expression, which he kept averted.

 

He saw him swallow. “Yeah. If that’s cool with you.”

 

Kagami shifted his weight uncertainly, “Well I’m...not sure people are supposed to know. It shouldn’t be possible and stuff, you know?”

 

“I would advise you to only tell those you know for a fact you can absolutely trust,” Aomine’s father said softly, “And even then, it’s taking a significant risk to even chance it.”

 

Something flashed between him and Aomine as their eyes met, something Kagami didn’t think he was in on, and he dropped his gaze, feeling like he was eavesdropping or something though neither of them had said a word.

 

“...So we were going to either move into Kagami’s old apartment,” Aomine went on after a moment, hesitating, “Or we were...going to ask if maybe...we could stay here? At least for a little while until we figure something else out?”

 

For a moment, Kagami thought Aomine’s father might accept, but then his face turned rigid and unmoving, and he crossed his arms, “I can be available to you, Daiki, however you need me to be...but I’m afraid I can’t let both of you stay here.”

 

“Both of…?” Aomine glanced at Kagami, and then back at him, “Because he’s --?”

 

“Your mother doesn’t yet know the truth about your birth, and if this is brought into her home I’m afraid all the pieces will line up and it will be made clear to her.”

 

“So what?”

 

“I’m sorry. But the most I can offer you is information, and I can help provide for you and the child, when the time comes. You may be willing to run the risk of spreading the truth around, but I am not. I’ve learned better...I hope you don’t have to go through the same lesson.”

 

Aomine’s eyes flashed stubbornly, but the soft, resigned sigh he released conflicted with the expression. “Fine, then. Kagami, would it be possible for us to get your dad's apartment back?”

 

“I...think so, the rent should still be paid automatically and I haven’t been evicted or anything so…” Kagami said, realizing he was beginning to ramble and trailing off, unsure how to react to the rather tense atmosphere that had settled between the two blue-eyed men before him.

 

“Is that all you wanted to ask?” Aomine’s father inquired after a second or two, entirely neutrally.

 

Kagami knew it wasn’t. Knew there was more Aomine wanted to say; he’d heard it in his questions and suggestions before, and could practically see it on his face now.

 

“Yeah. That’s all,” he said shortly, turning away from his father and motioning for Kagami with a hand, “C’mon Kagami, let’s get out of here.”

 

Kagami went with him, after giving a respectful, parting bow to his father, and wondering if they would ever meet again after this. He didn’t think that had been a fight, but there had definitely been a disagreement, and a refusal on both sides to see eye-to-eye, for a moment. It was strange, because Aomine’s father had been a willing supporter this whole time, and only rescinded that support when it meant actually taking the two of them in. He wondered why he’d offered a helping hand in the first place, then.

 

There was also more going on under the surface, he thought. More that he couldn’t see between father and son...and he doubted he would get a straight answer out of Aomine if he were to ask what it was.

 

TBC

  



	19. Chapter 19

Aomine’s hands remained clenched into fists, concealed in the pockets of his jacket, all the way back to the train station, and he walked with brisk, seething purpose, several steps ahead of Kagami, who didn’t seem too concerned about keeping up with him, or being left behind. Neither bothered to break the tense silence or meet the other’s eye, but the anger and frustration that had flickered to life under Aomine’s skin the moment he turned away from his father and stormed out of his house wasn’t in any way directed at his current company. No, he wasn’t angry _at_ Kagami; he was angry _for_ him.

 

Angry because his father had explicitly, specifically told him over the phone, a month and a half that seemed like yesterday and a year ago at once, not to make Kagami go through with this alone, and yet had backed away with fucking cold feet from helping him where he needed it the most. Angry because he’d backhandedly guilted Aomine for feeling afraid and uncertain before, and then turned around and said he couldn’t take them in because he was scared...fucking scared of the truth being out to his mom, who he’d been deceiving for almost twenty straight years, after he’d been right in the same boat as Kagami was now.

 

And then there was _that_. The fact that he’d been in Kagami’s position, supposedly -- had probably felt the same things he was feeling and worried about the same things he was worrying about -- and he’d been all too willing to offer a helping hand and a listening ear when it was convenient for him, but the moment the water started to look hot, he was suddenly in a rush to get out of it, and leave Kagami out to dry. And he had the nerve to question Aomine’s conviction?

 

He was such a hypocrite, such a coward; more worried about salvaging his own web of secrecy than about Kagami, who wasn’t going to be _able_ to keep other people from knowing the truth for much longer, and needed more than anything else a safe haven from the outside world’s prying eyes, and someone who knew what they were doing when it came to this terrifying situation. Apparently keeping his wife in the dark and keeping up the charade that they were an at least relatively healthy, normal family unit was a more pressing concern for him.

 

 _He’s so worried about Mom knowing how I was born? Maybe I should tell her myself,_ he thought viciously, contemplating turning right around or calling her up to do just that. What did he honestly have to lose? She wasn’t really his mother, wasn’t even related to him, it turned out, and even if the truth shocked or hurt her, it would hurt his true mother more; maybe force him to see that the lies and secrets would only take him so far, and would only come back to bite him in the ass, sooner or later.

 

 _My whole life up to now has been a lie because of him. I have as much right to fix that as he does._ Resolutely, he shoved his hand in the pocket of his jeans, closing his fingers around his cell phone...and then he stopped. Stopped walking, stopped taking the device out, even stopped furiously ruminating and coming up with ways to get back at his father for all but shunning Kagami out of his home. Gritting his teeth, he removed his hand and closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing down his heightened, turbulent feelings and trying to think rationally...which had never exactly been his strong suit. He heard Kagami’s footsteps stop beside him, could practically feel his interrogating gaze burning into the back of his neck, and he sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, as he came to his conclusion.

 

Whether she was related to him by blood or not, his mom had been there for him all his life, had raised him and loved him and provided for him to the best of her ability; he wouldn’t purposely spit on that and risk her turning on him as well as his father for the truth of his origin. It was ancient history anyway. It didn’t matter anymore that his father had been knocked up by another man -- and _fuck_ , that was still so unbelievably weird to think about, even now -- it didn’t matter that he didn’t know, and might never know, his real father, or that he’d essentially been adopted by a stranger when he was too young to know the difference. None of that mattered now.

 

Slowly opening his eyes again, he straightened and turned his head to look at what did matter, meeting Kagami’s narrow crimson eyes, bright with a thousand burgeoning questions that immediately started to dissipate the moment he met Aomine’s gaze.

 

“It’s not worth it,” he said instead, tilting his head just slightly as if he wasn’t entirely sure what to lead with. How to respond to Aomine’s behavior that he supposed had been pretty unusual for him, especially considering how angry he had been. He was not generally quiet about it when he was angry, as Kagami had paid witness to countless times before; neither of them were.

 

“I know,” he muttered, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, looking away from those honest, penetrating eyes for a moment. 

 

“We’ll be fine on our own,” Kagami went on, face settling into that fierce, determined glare that had rocked Aomine’s world in more ways than one, several times over the past few years in which he’d known him, “I mean hell, we’ve made it this far.”

 

 _And we’ve still got each other._ That was more than his father had had, allegedly, when he’d been in this situation. Aomine didn’t know if it would be enough; they were both still clueless idiots, though neither was likely to be heard owning up to it, and they still had very little idea what they should be doing or what to expect, but at the very least, Kagami wasn’t on his own. Whether he needed or wanted Aomine’s help or not, it was, at least, available to him, no holds barred...which was more than he could say for any of their parents, in blood or name, right now.

 

.

 

.

 

Kagami seemed steadier during the train ride back; less like he was diligently staving off a puke attack, which was encouraging, and while neither of them said much -- there wasn’t much to say, though Aomine was sure they both had a lot on their minds...that was kind of true a lot of the time, these days -- Aomine simply couldn’t keep his eyes off of him, though he admitted he wasn’t really trying that hard. Some of it was vague, subconscious protectiveness...which, okay, was kind of new and kind of weird, but he didn’t really see the point of questioning it...but he had to admit to himself that he was thinking of more than the redhead’s safety as his gaze traveled from the strong, masculine angles of his jaw and profile to the ever-burning fire in his wildly expressive eyes, down to the flexing muscles of his arms and broad shoulders as he shifted his weight occasionally, adjusting the grip of his long, lean fingers on the strap hanging above his head. Maybe it was the lingering fragments of raw, tangled emotion and tension from the conflict earlier, maybe it was the weird new surge of protective, almost _possessive_ watchfulness that had started to surface, or maybe it was just that the man beside him was that damn alluring, unfairly so, all the freaking time, but whatever it was, he was helplessly caught and couldn’t bring himself to look away.

 

What had started as idle, indifferent glances every now and then had gradually, almost without Aomine being aware of it, become full-on, avid staring; confusing, half-formed emotions expanding in his chest even as warmth began to flood through his stomach and other parts further south...and judging by the repeated, conspicuous convulsions of his throat as he swallowed, and the color that had begun to dust his cheeks, not quite profuse enough yet to be called an embarrassed flush, Kagami had noticed. He hadn’t called Aomine out or protested, verbally or otherwise, to his persistent, rather shameless gawking, however, and when their stop came up and those heated red eyes shot him a glance as Kagami turned to face him, he abruptly figured out why. If the hint of desire flaring in their depths, and the subtle outline of the swelling beginning in his jeans were anything to go by. That he had responded so quickly to little more than an admiring gaze -- hell, Aomine hadn’t even had to lay a _hand_ on him and he was already breathing unevenly and starting to grow hard -- was surprising, and flattering, to say the least. And for the rest of the journey, that thought was all that took up Aomine’s mind; the bordering argument and subsequent resentful stewing over his father that had taken place less than an hour ago all but forgotten entirely.

 

They barely made it up the stairs and through the door before their mouths were crashing together, lips and teeth grappling as they started to undress each other right there in the entryway, stripping off each other’s jackets with short, jerky motions and starting on their shirts. Up until then Kagami had been a willing, eager participant, but he froze up for a moment, tongue halfway down Aomine’s throat, as Aomine’s fingers smoothed sensually over his hips and stomach, a glint of uncertainty coming into his feverish eyes as he drew away slightly.

 

“Wait --” he began, cut off as Aomine pressed their lips together again hungrily, “I said _wait,_ Aomine, what --?”

 

“Shut up,” Aomine interrupted, surprising both of them with how gentle the words came out, despite the rather roughened quality of his voice. Lifting one hand to smooth along Kagami’s cheek and into his hair, he dipped his head until their mouths were a mere few centimeters apart, “Shut up and let me kiss you, let me touch you; I don’t want to wait.”

 

Kagami’s breath expelled in a rush against his cheeks, and one of his hands dropped to cover Aomine’s, which hadn’t stopped circling and tracing the shallow curve at his waist, doubt still evident in his face and faltering motions. “But…”

 

 _“Taiga,_ ” Aomine insisted, unable to hold back a pleased smirk as startled crimson eyes snapped to his own, wider than before, and some of the tension left his shoulders just like that, “It’s fine.”

 

Kissing the corner of his mouth, lapping at it, he felt his ego swell as Kagami shuddered and moved closer to him, pressing into his touch and bringing their lips together again, fingers hooking under the hem of his shirt and dragging it up over his head, having to break the kiss briefly in order to do so. Aomine took the opportunity to bare Kagami’s chest as well, raking his eyes immediately, hungrily, over the newly exposed, sunkissed skin flushed and practically trembling under his ministrations.

 

“Fuck…” he breathed, leaning in to set his lips against Kagami’s neck, kissing along the taut, corded muscles of his throat and breathing him in deep until he felt lightheaded, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

 

He felt Kagami start in surprise, and could have sworn the pulse just under his lips actually ratcheted before Kagami pushed him back a step to stare at him, embarrassment, frustration and pleasure mixing oddly on his face that was suddenly red as a beacon, “What the hell is up with you? Are you _drunk?_ ”

 

Aomine blinked, wondering what had given him that idea -- but then, he supposed he of all people had rather recent, extensive experience dealing with him while under the influence, so he would know better than most -- and then burst out laughing.

 

“No, dumbass,” he started to say, condescendingly, but when he looked into those burning, compelling eyes once again, searing into him with equal measures of untempered desire and frustration, he felt something jolt through him, electric, all the way to his knees, and hesitantly, breathlessly amended the statement, “...Maybe a little.”

 

Kagami’s unique eyebrows started to furrow in confusion at the illogical admission, and then shot almost to his hairline as it must have occurred to him exactly what -- or _who_ \-- Aomine might have been drunk on. He opened his mouth as if to respond, his shell-shocked expression starting to melt into something else, and then closed it again, shaking his head exasperatedly and leaning in to kiss him again.

 

“You’re such an idiot...”

 

“Hm,” Aomine grunted noncommittally, not quite a laugh, as he accepted the kiss and trailed his fingers down from Kagami’s stomach to his groin, whispering over the stirring of desire straining against the zipper of his jeans. Kagami’s hips jerked, and he muffled a soft, longing moan against the lips pressed to his; a sound Aomine swallowed down greedily, sucking and pulling at his lips and welcoming his tongue as it plunged into his mouth, beseeching.

 

Couldn’t refuse a blatant request like that. Fumbling with the fly of Kagami’s jeans, he impatiently pushed them down his hips, before lightly cupping the bulge in his underwear and hearing Kagami hiss. As he closed his hand around the weighty girth in his grasp, tracing over the veins and ridges pressing against the thin barrier of cotton, he had to reflexively swallow as his mouth started to water. Following an impulse, he dropped to his knees and slipped his thumbs into the waistband of Kagami’s boxers, gradually peeling them down and leaning in to kiss and mouth at each new inch of exposed flesh as he went. Just as the scant thatch of dark red curls tickled his nose, Kagami stiffened, fingers landing in Aomine’s hair and applying just enough pressure to tip his head back, until their eyes met.

 

“Ahomine,” he said flatly, sifting his hand the rest of the way through the short strands and -- probably unintentionally -- sending a delicious shiver all the way down Aomine’s spine in doing so, “...What are you doing?”

 

Aomine paused and wet his lips, wondering briefly if that had been a trick question because he thought it should have been pretty damn obvious what he was doing, but it was true that he hadn’t gone down on Kagami yet...though Kagami had, allegedly, gone down on _him_ once, when his head was swimming in too much booze to properly recount it. One look at those uneasy red eyes was enough to tell him that Kagami wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea, so he stopped, and swallowed again, circling his fingers against the sensitive skin where Kagami’s hips met his thighs and watching his long, powerful legs shake in response.

 

“I want you…” he murmured, tipping his head down to nuzzle the rigid, throbbing flesh right in front of his nose, earning him a tighter grip of Kagami’s fingers in the back of his hair, the tiny sting doing nothing to tamp down the desire zinging through him, and in fact only managing to push a few more of his buttons. “Shit, I want you so fucking bad…” His breathing had become more ragged, harsher, and he held onto Kagami’s hips tighter, drawing him as close as possible without closing the remaining distance between his lips and the obvious tent of Kagami’s cock that he couldn’t believe he was still practically fucking drooling over. He’d been able and willing to put another guy’s dick in his mouth before, on occasion, but this sudden, almost alarming degree of hunger and _want_ when faced with such a task was entirely new….and was kind of freaking him out.

 

However, as his gaze traveled back up Kagami’s rather less-defined abs to return to his face, it occurred to him sluggishly that maybe it wasn’t that in particular that he was so desperate for, to the point of his brain teetering closer to the edge of short-circuiting the longer it was withheld, but simply Kagami himself. Every single gorgeous, rock hard, mouthwatering inch of him. The whole package, and not just the...well, _package_.

 

Kagami looked at him strangely for a few seconds, scanning over his face as if he were a moderately challenging word problem he was trying to figure out. And knowing his test scores, Aomine doubted his efforts would be any more fruitful in this instance. He relaxed slightly with a tiny, amused smirk to himself at the thought.

 

Releasing a sharp breath and Aomine’s hair from his grasp, Kagami slid his hands down to hold his shoulders, still watching him intently, “Then you can have me,” he rasped, the heels of his palms pressing down to hold Aomine in place as he eagerly started to lean forward, “Just...n-not like that, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

 

If he were anyone else, Aomine might have said his expression at that moment was almost shy, but he could still see the discomfort in his face, and obligingly rose to his feet, trailing his fingers from Kagami’s thighs up to his chest in one smooth stroke until they were once again on equal ground, eye-to-eye. “Okay.”

 

Relief swept over Kagami’s features for a split-second, only to be replaced by returning carnal interest and almost cocky assurance. The contrast to the flustered blushing and stammering not a moment ago was startling, and as such Aomine barely had time to brace himself before Kagami’s mouth was back on his, stealing the breath from his lungs as he was backed up and promptly pinned down on the bed, reeling from the show of assertive sexual confidence that was rare, but not unheard of for Kagami to exhibit. Already burning and aching with need for the man now crouching on all fours astride his legs, the sudden closeness and insistence drove him wild, and he craned his neck to press their lips together harder, sweeping his tongue along Kagami’s lower lip, only to narrowly avoid biting it in half as Kagami yanked his jeans and underwear down roughly, not even stopping to unbutton the former.

 

“F-fucking hell,” he panted, closing his eyes with a soft moan as a large, warm hand wrapped around him, stroking him firmly from base to tip in one fluid motion.

 

“So how do you want me?” Kagami asked in an undertone, close enough that Aomine could feel and almost taste his hot, spicy breath on his face. He could still hear a minor shake in his voice, a tremor of uncertainty beneath the sudden show of nerve, and when he opened his eyes a fraction he glimpsed the flush still radiating off of his face, turning it close to the same shade as his hair. But he still pressed on, leaning down until both of their now-naked cocks brushed together, eliciting a shiver from both of them.

 

“Just like this,” Aomine hissed, cupping Kagami’s hips in his hands and bringing him forward so that the head of his almost painfully swollen arousal slid along the crevice of that perfect, sumptuous ass.

 

He fancied he saw a rush of steam escape Kagami’s ears as his cheeks went an even more vivid shade of scarlet, but he still nodded and took Aomine’s fingers into his mouth when they prompted at his lower lip, slicking them generously and even seeming to savor the taste. And despite how interesting an idea _that_ was, Aomine was quick to remove them once they were wet enough and bring them around, because honestly, if he didn’t get inside Kagami soon he felt like he would die.

 

And once he did push into that sweet, almost unbearably tight heat, he felt all the air rush out of his body as for a moment, he simply gazed into the wide, pleasure-hazed eyes looming over his face, unable to resist leaning up to capture that tempting, panting mouth. Kagami shifted, bringing out a moan from both of them as he found leverage against the mattress, and his hips lifted briefly away from Aomine’s before dropping back down, driving Aomine deeper into him, jerking a low, helpless groan from his throat as he rose again and repeated the motion with swift, nearly desperate abandon.

 

“Wait,” Aomine gasped, grasping his shoulders and locking eyes with him imploringly, “Wait, go slow… I want to see you…”

 

Kagami looked at him skeptically, one eyebrow raised, which Aomine supposed he understood, as that was almost to the letter the exact opposite of what he would typically have asked of him under these conditions. “You were the one who said you didn’t want to wait, what are you --?”

 

“Please,” he added, in little more than a rasping exhale, and he could see that Kagami was done in by that, letting out a deep, somewhat shaky breath and complying, rolling his hips against Aomine’s more slowly and bending down to kiss him without having to be asked, following along with Aomine even as he led.

 

Aomine hadn’t been sure they would receive the same satisfaction from this -- what he could only adequately describe to himself as making love -- when they were both used to something much more harsh and rough and primal. The gradual, almost gently building heat as they moved together this way wasn’t a patch on their usual frenzied race toward completion; the slow, melding, thorough kisses between sighing moans and whispered pleas weren’t nearly as wild as the sizzling desperation of grappling mouths attacking and bruising each other, but even so, their movements lost none of the passion and focus they usually held, and once it seemed that Kagami’s uncertainty and confusion had been brushed aside, he let go and simply moved, drawing Aomine into his body slow and deep before easing him back out again, breathing out soft, wordless murmurs of approval on nearly every unhurried, deliberate thrust.

 

They were both breathless and drenched, sweat dripping from Kagami’s bangs and soaking Aomine’s chest and neck, when release flickered within reach, and Kagami’s fingers curled in the sheets as he drove himself down harder, but not faster, tight strangled moans catching in his throat as Aomine canted up his hips to sink into him at another angle. Gasping between his teeth and letting his head fall back, Kagami came with a sigh that was only slightly sharp around the edges, spurting against Aomine’s stomach and chest and wringing down around him tighter, the increase in pressure triggering his own release. Clutching Kagami’s shoulders, he buried his face between his shoulder and neck, holding onto him like a lifeline, like a lover, even after the last gripping pulse of his climax ebbed.

 

TBC

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Sap. And kind of a long chapter. Ah well. Things are changing and solidifying for both of these two, and things like the conflict in the last chapter are only driving them further into each other's arms. We'll just have to see how that ends up working for them.
> 
> Also here's another AoKaga mpreg ficlet by the lovely mazzie-nita, for all your fluffy mpreg needs.
> 
> http://theshinsun.tumblr.com/post/134379131007/))


	20. Chapter 20

Kagami lay on his back, panting, sweating, and still reeling though if anything, that had been one of the gentlest orgasms he’d ever experienced in his life. He hadn’t been overtaken by it as much as he’d met it halfway, ready for it and letting it flow through him, before allowing it to recede like an echo or a fading bruise and leave him totally relaxed and sated. He felt loose, almost peaceful, like he could have drifted right to sleep after that. It was nice...but it was also pretty weird.

 

Glancing over at Aomine, who hadn’t moved an inch since Kagami had crawled off of him and collapsed on his back, he saw that he seemed to be in a similar state; chest rising and falling slow and deep, if a little uneven, sweat glistening on his face and neck, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he just breathed in the aftermath of his release. After a moment, though, his own stomach growling a complaint jerked him out of his reverie, reminding him they hadn’t eaten yet tonight, and at the same time, he caught a glimmer of teeth out of the corner of his eye as a shameless grin crossed Aomine’s face. It was small and rather wiped out, but bright and blissful and so goddamn happy that he couldn’t help but mirror it, smiling to himself with a mixture of fondness and exasperation as he shook his head and rolled to his feet, distractedly locating his boxers where they’d been discarded and pulling them on.

 

One thing he’d had to become pretty creative about since living in the dorm was cooking. Without a kitchen or even a stove, his options had become pretty limited, but he’d still been able to work with what he had these past two and a half months to keep himself and Aomine from starving to death, or breaking their collective wallets on Maji Burger every night of the week. Aomine had never outwardly thanked him for the service, but his relief and enthusiasm whenever he had the option of actual, non-microwaveable and non-fast food spoke for itself. _Where would you be without me?_ He thought, rather smugly, as he glanced back in the general direction of his still prone and motionless roommate briefly before setting to work.

 

By the time he returned carrying two plates, each stacked with several sandwiches -- half with their crusts cut off, as he’d learned a certain big, blue-haired baby preferred them that way -- he found that Aomine seemed to have fallen asleep, completely naked as the day he was born and stretched out unabashedly, practically on display. Kagami was about to hit him over the head and hopefully transfer some decency and chagrin to him by means of sheer blunt force, when he glimpsed the dark circles weighing heavy under the sweeping crescents of his nearly black lashes, and the apparent exhaustion that seemed to emanate from every inch of him. He decided on setting down the sandwiches and lightly shaking his shoulder instead, the flash of concern he felt when he noticed the state Aomine was in not making it into his voice.

 

“Wake up, dumbass, you need to eat something.”

 

With a mumbled groan of protest, Aomine shifted and tried to push him away, “Five more minutes.”

 

“No, now,” Kagami insisted, popping him in the forehead none-too-gently, which only earned him a startled, then reproachful and slightly offended glare. He didn’t give Aomine the chance to say anything before shoving the plate of carefully denuded sandwiches at him, “Eat. Then you can go to bed butt-naked for all I care, just not on an empty stomach.”

 

Rubbing one hand over his face, Aomine took the plate with the other and sat up with an annoyed, but resigned sigh, “What are you, my mother?”

 

Kagami huffed a dry laugh and sat down on the edge of the bed with his own rather larger stack of sandwiches, “Two moms isn’t enough for you? ...It’s no wonder you have no freaking idea how to take care of yourself.”

 

Aomine picked up a sandwich without comment, starting to eat it with slow, methodical motions that betrayed how tired he still was. Distractedly, as he took a bite out of one of his own, Kagami remembered how uncharacteristically early he’d woken up this morning. ...And slowly it occurred to him that maybe he hadn’t.

 

“Did you...sleep at all, last night?”

 

Aomine paused, before setting the sandwich down. Swallowing what was in his mouth, he shook his head shortly, “No.”

 

Kagami blinked. He hadn’t known Aomine to ever pull an all-nighter, and he gathered that, given his way, he wouldn’t even go a day without taking a nap...or several, if he could get away with it. The guy loved to sleep almost as much as he loved basketball, now that his passion for the latter had been rekindled. He probably could have dozed off even if the world was ending, Kagami couldn’t think of anything bad enough that would have driven him to sleeplessness.

 

“...Why?” he asked finally.

 

Aomine shrugged and picked up his sandwich again, passing it back and forth between his hands. “Couldn’t,” he mumbled, breaking eye-contact quickly, “I was thinking too much.”

 

Swallowing the automatic taunting retort, as well as a wad of bread and meat, Kagami couldn’t quite refrain from rolling his eyes, “And you get on _my_ case for saying shit like that.”

 

A hint of indecisive conflict crossed Aomine’s face, and he went still, “I was...because…” His gaze cut to Kagami’s bare midsection, and suddenly it fell into place.

 

“Oh.” Losing anything else he might have tried to say, he picked up his last sandwich and bit into it, chewing more mechanically than before.

 

Nodding absently to himself, Aomine took a bite as well and went on with his mouth full, still keeping his gaze averted, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened earlier...and I was nervous and excited and really fucking scared, all at the same time.”

 

Kagami blinked and looked at him in surprise, “You were excited?”

 

Aomine’s eyebrows furrowed, and he swallowed the last piece of his sandwich and set his plate aside, “Yeah. Aren’t you?”

 

Wrinkling his nose slightly, Kagami finished eating as well and reached over to place his plate on top of Aomine’s, “That’s not...the word I would use, no.”

 

Aomine frowned, “Then what word would you use?”

 

Crossing over to take his side of the bed, he resolutely avoided Aomine’s eye, “Nothing. Never mind. You’re wiped out, I’m wiped out, let’s just go to bed.”

 

A strong, warm hand clamped down around his wrist, “Kagami.” Looking up, he was startled to see those fierce dark blue eyes trained seriously on his own, “...Do you want to go through with this thing with me?”

 

Kagami looked at him for a moment, and then jerked his hand out of his grasp, “I already said I was going to --”

 

“Do you _want_ to?” Aomine repeated, enunciating and refusing to back down.

 

Kagami’s mouth dropped open, and he started to answer, only to realize he had no idea what he would say if he could. He just stayed like that, floundering, for a long moment before Aomine continued.

 

“‘Cause at this point you could probably still back out...if you wanted.”

 

“I don’t have a ch --”

 

“Yes you do. You always did.” How Aomine managed to look that dead-serious while sitting there completely nude, hair sticking up in places from sleep and sex, defied all logic, but there he was. “You can just say the word, and it’s over, I’m sure that Dr. Kishima guy has a way to...put an end to it. It’s up to you.”

 

Almost instinctively, Kagami’s hand went to his own belly, and he set his teeth frustratedly, “Why this all of the sudden? What’s gotten into you, Aomine?”

 

“I don’t want you to do this just because you feel like you have to,” Aomine said steadily, “I don’t want you to look back and end up hating the kid, or me, for forcing you into it. If we’re going to do this...it should be because we both want to do it.”

 

“And you do?” Kagami tested, defensively, “You want this?”

 

There was only an instant, only a heartbeat, of hesitation, “Yes.”

 

Kagami started to respond, but Aomine wasn’t done, “Yes, I want this. I want you, and the kid, I want us...to be like a family or something.” His gaze dropped and he went on in little more than a murmur, “...But only if that’s what you want, too.”

 

Normally, Kagami wouldn’t have thought twice about hitting him and calling him a stupid idiot for spouting that kind of sappy shit, but at the moment, he didn’t feel any such impulse. His hand hadn’t moved from the tiny, soft bump just above his hips, and after a moment, his other hand joined it, smoothing over the taut, vulnerable flesh as he glanced down at it uncertainly.

 

“I…” he began, trailing off and looking back up at Aomine, searching his surprisingly honest, unwavering blue eyes. Beautiful, really; so much younger and brighter and more openly, unapologetically expressive than those of the man he’d inherited them from. He wondered distractedly if their baby would have those same eyes, and felt his throat tighten painfully, confusingly, at the thought.

 

He remembered Kuroko predicting, with absolute certainty, a few weeks ago, that even if he was given the chance to put a stop to this and abort the pregnancy, he would still go through with it. ...Like he was with so many other things, of course he'd been right.

 

“I think…I do,” he said tentatively, before letting out his breath in a rush and going on with more assurance, “I’m also scared to fucking death over it and I’m still pissed that I’m not going to be able to play ball for awhile, but...even if it sucks half the time and freaks both of us out the other half, I...if you were there with me, I mean, I’d…”

 

Aomine’s eyebrows rose slowly, his expression gradually morphing into one of stunned shock. “...Do I hear a confession coming on?” he asked, with just the barest edge of teasing, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

 

Kagami snorted irritably, and cuffed him over the head with one hand, “Tch. You wish, asshole.”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Aomine laughed, utterly failing to look it, “You were saying?”

 

“You know what I was saying, dumbass,” Kagami grumbled, lying down and pulling the blanket over himself, “Just go to sleep already, you look like shit.”

 

For a second, he thought Aomine might have jabbed back at that, but in the end he just lay down beside him without a word, wriggling under the covers to get comfortable. After a few moments of complete stillness and silence, he reached over and lightly wrapped an arm around Kagami’s waist, pulling him closer. And, with an only slightly exasperated sigh to himself, Kagami obliged and scooted over until they were pressed together, Aomine’s long arm draped over his stomach, his face nuzzling contentedly into his shoulder as he drifted to sleep.

 

He was an annoying, clingy, and currently naked and pretty sweaty bastard who took up all the blankets and yet somehow was still making Kagami overheat, but even so...Kagami supposed he could get used to this.

 

.

 

.

 

“So what’s really going on, Dai-chan?” Satsuki pressed, pulling him over by the sleeve at the edge of the apartment complex parking lot, “Are you finally ready to tell me that? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, you know.”

 

Sighing to himself with resigned amusement at her persistence, Aomine set down the box in his hands and turned to face her, “Yeah, I know. I was…” he ran a hand self-consciously through his hair, “...handling some stuff.”

 

Her sharp rose eyes flitted over to the door that had been propped open, where Kagami and Tetsu were arguing like an old married couple about the most efficient way to arrange their own boxes so they would have to make the least amount of trips up the stairs. “Stuff to do with Kagamin,” she guessed; it wasn’t a question, “...You’ve only really been around each other lately, right?”

 

“Most of the time,” Aomine agreed, leaning against the side of the building and crossing his arms and ankles loosely.

 

“Did you two get in a fight? Was that it?” she pressed, scanning over his face as if she could shoot goddamn X-rays out of her eyes, “You seem a lot calmer now than before...both of you.”

 

From the way she was speaking, Aomine guessed she’d figured out -- probably some time ago -- that there was more going on between himself and Kagami than just rivalry, or even grudging friendship. He wasn’t even going to ask how she knew _that_ ; some things about Satsuki’s crazy skills of deduction were better left a mystery.

 

“...Sort of,” he said cautiously, looking away, “It wasn’t really a fight, just...a misunderstanding, mostly. We were both kind of freaking out for awhile, but I think we’ve got it sorted out now.”

 

“‘It’ being what?” Satsuki pounced immediately, taking the opportunity to cut to the chase, “What started it, really? Obviously _something_ happened back there...something you still haven’t told me.”

 

Aomine slumped his shoulders slightly, letting out his breath slowly between his teeth and coming to the conclusion that now was as good a time as any to tell her. _Let’s get this over with._

 

“Alright,” he said, meeting her penetrating gaze again, “What happened is…”

 

He swallowed, past the lump that had formed in his throat, unsure why it was suddenly so much harder to get out. ...And then it hit him that until now, he’d never actually had to say it out loud before. Not all the words at once, and he didn’t think _that_ one in particular had ever left his lips.

 

“...Dai-chan?” Satsuki prompted after a moment, looking at him with expectant concern.

 

“Kagami’s pregnant, and it’s mine,” he burst out in a rush, almost cringing at how ridiculous that sounded to his ears, despite...well, despite _everything_. Despite seeing it with his own eyes, despite feeling it with his own hands...despite accepting it, and everything it entailed.

 

Satsuki’s eyes practically bugged out of her head, and her hand leapt up to cover her open mouth quickly, before lowering again slowly as she started to frown. “But...Dai-chan, that’s impossible. You’re both --”

 

“I know,” Aomine interrupted with a sigh, waving her off impatiently, “I said the same thing, I didn’t believe it either. But it’s true, I’ve seen it myself...and Kagami sure as hell’s had reason to believe it, lately.”

 

“So when he was in the hospital, he…?” she began uncertainly, her slender eyebrows knitting together almost into a single, furrowed line.

 

“The doctor ran a bunch of tests on him...and it turns out he’s gonna have my kid,” Aomine explained flatly, shoving his hands in his pockets and holding her gaze, wondering if she could see the truth in his eyes; she always seemed to have such an effortless, almost intimate understanding of him, even when he didn’t necessarily want to be understood. She could read him like a book, and he wasn’t exactly doing anything to hide what he was trying to convey to her anymore.

 

Something did seem to sink into her eyes for a moment, and they softened briefly, only to turn hard and analytical a second later, “But.. _.how?_ Kagamin’s a guy -- _very_ much a guy -- his anatomy isn’t… How would he even --? For that matter how did _you_ …? Never mind I don’t want to know!”

 

 _So this is what happens when her logic deconstructs,_ Aomine thought, with a faint hint of fascination. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Satsuki at such a loss before.

 

He shrugged, hunching his shoulders without taking his hands out of his pockets, “I dunno. That’s just the way it is. Yeah, it’s weird, but...I don’t think there’s any more room for doubt at this point.”

 

Satsuki’s eyes flashed dangerously, and he almost instinctively took a step back in sheer terror. He knew that look, and what it meant.

 

“I need proof,” she said with almost manic determination, standing up taller, though she still barely came up past Aomine’s chest at her full height, “I need to see it for myself, if it’s --”

 

“No way.” Aomine protested immediately, gaze hardening, “You’re not prodding and probing at Kagami and filling out any fucking charts; he’s not a science experiment.”

 

She blinked in surprise, and it took him a moment to figure out what he might have said to cause that. He played back his words and tone of voice in his head, and realized that actually, that had been downright _possessive_ of him. Well...good, if it kept Satsuki out of Kagami’s personal business, and -- hopefully -- kept her from jumping him and running God knew what kinds of tests on him. That insatiable curiosity and need to _know_ was her fatal flaw, he thought, and was probably going to get her in some serious trouble, someday.

 

“Besides,” he went on, in a softer, almost gentler tone, “You’ll get your proof eventually, when the rest of us do.”

 

In half a year or so, they’d all be getting irrefutable proof of the existence of the child...if all went accordingly, and he still didn’t have the slightest idea how that -- _that_ in particular -- was going to work. All the more reason to check back in with the doctor sooner rather than later, as his father’s talks about the subject had hardly been in-depth, comprehensive explanations. There was a lot he hadn’t covered; a lot that was left unclear.

 

Satsuki bit her lip, “And you’re...okay with this, Dai-chan? Provided it’s true, I mean...are you…?”

 

“Yeah,” he interrupted, inclining his head in a solid, certain nod, “Took me awhile, but I’m sticking with him...and the kid, when it comes.”

 

“Oi!” A deep voice shouted, breaking into the silence that followed his declaration, as Kagami jogged over to them, looking rather miffed, “Ahomine, are you going to help us move the rest of these boxes or not?”

 

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming,” Aomine grumbled, stepping away from the brick wall against his back, “Keep your shirt on, Bakagami.”

 

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” Kagami shot back, sneering. ...Before seeming to realize what he’d said and clapping a hand over his mouth with a furtive glance at Satsuki, a hint of a flush crawling up his cheeks.

 

Aomine sputtered, no sense to it, and stared at him in complete, dumb shock. He’d _never_ heard Kagami turn a phrase like that -- usually he himself was the one who was prone double entendres and innuendos and " _that’s what she said"s_  -- and he certainly never expected to hear him let one fly like that in _public…_

 

“Aomine-kun, your face is turning into a stoplight,” a calm, level voice spoke from directly next to him. He jumped.

 

“Uah!” Instead of actual words, a loud, strangled sound escaped him and he whirled on the shorter man who had -- as usual -- appeared out of fucking thin air. “Fuck, Tetsu! Don’t do that!"

 

“Please control your excessive blood flow, Aomine-kun, I will not catch you if you pass out,” Tetsu said simply, looking him deadpan in the face.

 

“Neither will I,” Kagami chipped in, a strange blend of embarrassment and irritation on his scowling face.

 

Feeling thoroughly betrayed, Aomine crossed his arms and grumbled something unintelligible and admittedly immature about it being all Kagami’s fault. He watched Tetsu glance between Kagami and himself, and then his ice blue gaze softened with something like stoic relief.

 

“Things are back to normal between the two of you, then?” he asked blandly.

 

Aomine blinked, snapping out of his sulking, “Uh...no, not really,” he admitted, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck when three different pairs of eyes turned on him in confusion. He focused on Kagami’s inquisitive red ones as he completed the statement.

 

“...I don’t think they ever will be again.”

 

TBC

  



	21. Chapter 21

With a careless flick of his wrist, the shot went in. As it always did, no matter what his form looked like, the ball rolling off his fingers in a long, effortless arc and sinking into the net with a soft _swish_. Aomine sighed and trudged across the court to retrieve it as it bounced away. He was agitated; practically twitching with pent-up energy and emotion that needed an outlet, and playing by himself wasn’t anywhere near as invigorating as playing with an opponent would be, especially if that opponent was Kagami...but he wasn’t about to ask the redhead to step in and relieve his frustration. He’d received a pretty stern reminder earlier today why that wasn’t an option right now.

 

A week ago he’d called the number on the card he’d taken from the hospital, the day Kagami had hit his head, and set up an appointment for him to be looked over by Dr. Kishima. Of course he’d had to give a pretty vague, improvised reason for his call, until he could speak with the doctor himself, as he was pretty sure the receptionist wasn’t -- and wasn’t supposed to be -- in on the whole concept of a man being pregnant. Much as it still set his teeth on edge for this whole thing to have to be such a conspiratorial secret; it would be so much simpler if people were just allowed to know the truth.

 

And so, earlier this morning, he and Kagami had returned to the hospital, under much calmer, more controlled circumstances than their previous visit and having a pretty good idea what to expect. He had noticed his own restlessness while they were sitting in the reasonably crowded waiting room, not able to speak freely with each other with so many people around, in such close proximity. With no distraction available, he’d been unable to sit still, one leg jiggling as his foot tapped rapidly, incessantly, against the floor, reminding him better than anything else -- any of the fidgety annoyance and hot-tempered snappishness that had been showing up rather recently -- that he hadn’t been to practice or even touched a basketball in almost ten days. A bit of a record for him.

 

Since helping Kagami move back into his apartment the other day, he’d had very little to do, very little that was expected of him, as Kagami seemed determined to take charge and run the house now that he was back in it. Which was fine, Aomine was pretty laid-back and lazy by nature, and probably would have just gotten in his way and messed things up if he tried to help him unpack and get settled in, but still...he’d come to the conclusion that he needed to get out and _do_ something, stretch his legs and get the blood flowing. He figured he was pretty overdue for a game, even just a one-on-one, but he’d been quickly dissuaded from even thinking of asking if Kagami was also feeling his oats, and would be willing to try to join him, when they’d actually gone in to see the doctor.

 

At first, it had been a pretty casual, typical check-up type encounter. Kishima had seemed very pleased to see them, especially Kagami, though he had given a warm smile and a bow of polite greeting to Aomine as well, and involved him in every aspect of the proceedings, keeping both of them informed with everything he was doing as he looked Kagami over stem to stern, making his observations out loud as well as jotting them down. Supposedly, even with the changes in physique and routine over the past month or so, he remained in peak condition; a little low in Vitamin D and a little high in blood pressure, though nothing severe. The former in particular, Kishima had informed them, would be important to rectify however possible, at this juncture in time.

 

“As we speak the embryo is beginning to develop its bones and first teeth,” he’d explained, a small smile crossing his face as he registered the identical look of shock that must have come over both of theirs. “Yes, at ten weeks bones and cartilage start to form, as well as the first tooth buds, but without proper levels of calcium and Vitamin D, they can be weakened, and the teeth will be more likely to develop cavities, so it’s important to stay fortified with both of those. And important for your own benefit as well, especially as winter approaches.”

 

“It’s that far along already?” Aomine found himself asking, and even to his own ears his voice sounded hushed and disbelieving.

 

“Mm,” Kishima said thoughtfully, turning his lilac gaze on him, “Not quite. You see, though what was once a mere cluster of cells is now taking on a more human shape, complete with working elbows and knees, even the longest bones of the legs and arms are still no bigger than the length of your smallest fingernail. The entire body isn’t even four centimeters long.” He held up his fingers up as a measurement, and both Aomine and Kagami immediately glanced at their own hands to compare.

 

“A few weeks ago the heart divided into chambers and started to beat,” Kishima went on, either oblivious or pretty used to their evident, collective astonishment, “Though it should be another week or so before blood starts to circulate throughout the body.”

 

“That’s…” Kagami started to say, slightly hoarse, and simply trailed off, cradling his pinky finger in the palm of his other hand, before wrapping his fingers lightly, gently around it. He trailed off and didn’t complete the statement.

 

“Amazing,” Aomine supplied, shifting his gaze from him to return it to the doctor with an implicit question. ...Or several.

 

“As for what to expect from here,” Kishima began, as if sensing the intent and burning curiosity in his eyes. He directed his words at Kagami, but his gaze flitted often to return to his, as though advising him as well, “Over the next few weeks, the fetus should continue growing exponentially, and so should you. As the first trimester comes to an end about….oh, three or four weeks from now, I’ll call you back in and we’ll see how things stand, but in general, you should expect to see a decrease in nausea and mood swings for a little while, and an increase in appetite to feed that rapid growth.”

 

Aomine’s eyebrows rose, taking on an edge of teasing world-weariness when Kagami met his gaze, “You’re gonna be eating _more?_ I’ll have to take out another mortgage on the house.”

 

“We’re renting an apartment, moron,” Kagami muttered, rolling his eyes, but Aomine thought he saw a flicker of amusement in their crimson depths, “We don’t have mortgages. And it’s not like I’d make you cook for me, I doubt Junior or I would survive it.”

 

Aomine bit his lip, but nodded in grudging agreement, unable to find fault with that statement. And since he wouldn’t be contributing anything of nutritional value to help Kagami during this process, he started to wonder what he _would_ contribute. He supposed he could take up winning the proverbial bread for them both, like he’d offered, or at least handle the grocery shopping if making the trek to the supermarket and back became too much for Kagami. Wherever he could be of use, he supposed, he would offer his assistance, though it was probably still a little early now to think of Kagami as in any way dependent on him. Maybe one day that would change, and he wondered how Kagami’s ego and stubborn insistence on doing things himself would handle that...if he would be able to swallow his pride and actually ask for help when he needed it. Somehow he couldn’t picture it.

 

After a moment of silence, Kishima adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and continued, “All in all, Kagami-san, you’ve got a little under six and a half months of pregnancy left to look forward to, and I’ll be sure to keep you updated every step of the way. Do you have any questions before I send you on your way?”

 

“I do,” Aomine broke in immediately, but he was waved off with an amused smile from Kishima.

 

“I already know _you_ do,” he laughed softly, before turning back to face Kagami, still smiling, “You’re lucky to have such a dedicated partner in this. All things considered, that can tend to be rather uncommon in these cases… And I’m sure the child will also benefit from having that dedication in a father, when the time comes.”

 

Aomine was sure he’d flushed, at both the rather indirect praise and the insinuation that one day he would, in fact, be a father to this child. And that Kishima seemed to think, from what he’d seen of him so far, that he would be a good one. Tenacity and ego rising to battle the surge of embarrassment, he’d clenched his fists against his knees where he sat, and mustered his determination right then and there to be the best, most kickass goddamn father this kid could ever hope to have.

 

He didn’t see Kagami’s face, but he heard the hint of unease in his voice even as he clearly tried to conceal it, “When...this is over, when it’s…” Aomine heard him swallow, so surely Kishima must have heard it too, “W-when it’s ready to be born...how does...I mean…?”

 

Aomine blinked, and looked up at him. Beneath the awkwardness of his voice and uncomfortable expression he wore, there was an undercurrent of uncertainty and even fear that was almost tangible, emanating from him. He considered that it was a pretty valid concern, and one that hadn’t yet been clarified for either of them. Personally, he was already unclear enough on how the baby had gotten _inside_ Kagami in the first place -- aside from the obvious; he had a pretty general idea how it was supposed to work -- but he didn’t have the slightest idea how it was supposed to get _out_. Banishing a few terrifying mental images lifted straight from a dub of _Alien_ , he all but mirrored Kagami’s questioning, unnerved gaze and looked to Kishima expectantly.

 

“Ah, of course,” Kishima said smoothly, seeming unbothered and waving a hand dismissively, “As the due date approaches and we get a clearer idea of when the ideal time will be, I will schedule you for a Caesarian section. That’s quite a while down the road, however, not something you need to concern yourself with just yet.”

 

“See...see-what-ian...section…?” Kagami echoed blankly, narrowing his eyes as if trying to spell the unfamiliar word out in his head.

 

“Caesarian,” Kishima repeated patiently, “Or C-section, in familiar terms. That is, rather than being born naturally -- which would be quite impossible in this case with the narrowness of the male pelvis and lack of a suitable opening -- an incision in the abdomen will be made to extract the baby from the uterine apparatus --”

 

“The what?” Kagami interrupted, seeming frustrated even as he visibly grew paler and more nervous the longer Kishima spoke.

 

“The male equivalent of a uterus; the womb inside which the fetus grows and develops. That’s just what we call it, as the structure isn’t entirely natural, nor its origin or functions entirely understood just yet.”

 

“Oh.” Kagami dropped his gaze and didn’t say anything else, folding his arms around his midsection with apparent self-consciousness.

 

“You have to cut him open?” Aomine asked after a moment, sure he was either grimacing with apprehension or scowling with distaste; it could easily have been either.

 

“I’m afraid so,” Kishima nodded soberly, “A team of surgeons specifically conditioned to handle male mothers will perform the operation. ...It’s a fairly common procedure even among women, and as it stands, his safest and only option.”

 

Aomine saw a flicker of doubt cross Kagami’s face, even as a shadow passed over Kishima’s, and he frowned, “...How safe?”

 

“As much as physically possible,” Kishima assured him, “It would be difficult to provide an accurate statistic, as this phenomenon is still rather rare and quite confidential, but out of over a dozen cases I know of only one attempted operation in which there were...complications, and the mother did not survive.”

 

“And that was…?” Aomine prompted warily, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest and throat that spoke of anxiety in the face of what he was being told; the lack of certainty and straight answers that was setting off alarm bells left and right in his head.

 

Something dark showed in Kishima’s violet eyes, but vanished just as quickly as he straightened, clearing his throat and going on in his calmer, more professional voice. “Again, not something either of you need to worry about for quite some time. Put your energy toward getting through this first trimester for now. When it’s over we will meet again and discuss plans for further in the future.”

 

.

 

.

 

Aomine had hardly said a word since leaving the hospital, though he’d still had plenty more questions for the doctor that had been left, for now, unanswered. He didn’t know what to say, what he could say, to Kagami -- words of reassurance or comfort that would probably be brushed off anyway seemed altogether too fake and cheap -- but he was more angry and frustrated now than he’d been since he last spoke to his father, and he didn’t want to end up taking that frustration out on him.

 

The strange part was, he didn’t even know why he was upset. Something about the situation was rubbing him the wrong way, creating a mess of confusing emotion that he didn’t _want_ to have to deal with, but figured he probably should...and he’d puzzled and ground his teeth over it for almost an hour before he finally decided to get out from under Kagami’s feet and vent his conflicted energy on the street court down the block. Not being able to extend an invitation for his long-time rival to come along seemed unfair and wrong, but if Kagami was disappointed, he didn’t show it...much.

 

And after he’d been there for over thirty minutes, trying to sort his thoughts as he blindly, furiously dribbled back and forth, fighting against an invisible opponent that he couldn’t seem to help picturing with blazing red hair and eyes, he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t actually angry. Not really. There had been a brief flash of annoyance and betrayal when he thought of the fact that his father had neglected to mention any of the gory details about how this would be resolved, either of the times they’d spoke to him. Even if it was obviously something Kagami was uncertain about, and dying to know, judging by the fact that it had been the first damn thing he’d asked when he got the chance to….but other than that, he was pretty sure he wasn't angry at all.

 

So he knew what he wasn’t feeling, then, but it took him another ten minutes of frustrated confusion and exhausting mental acrobatics to figure out what he _was_ , in which he’d launched a full-on assault on the only hoop with an intact net on the court. And he only broke the almost seamless barrage of perfect -- if rather formless -- three-pointers when it finally hit him that no, the coiling, searing ball of raw, conflicted emotion in the pit of his stomach definitely wasn’t anger. ...It was fear.

 

Yes, that made sense….he wasn’t angry, he was afraid.

 

And once that sank in, once he could admit that, it was all too easy for the next piece to fall into place...to know exactly what he was afraid _of_. What this pure, animal terror, more insistent and visceral than any vague dread he’d felt before -- when he’d actually considered the severity of the situation he and Kagami had blindly hurtled into -- was for. Because this time it wasn’t fear for his freedom or his future or the realness of the situation, or even for either of their ability to handle it. It was primal, senseless fear for Kagami’s safety...maybe for his life. And underneath that, there was a lesser, but still present fear for that of the child.

 

It was strange, he thought as he gathered up the ball to set up another shot, because he didn’t think he’d ever worried about someone to the degree that he was practically worrying his hair out over Kagami. Sometimes he would have a brief spell of worrying for Tetsu or Satsuki when one of them was hurt or in trouble, or did something stupid -- though of course he never _said_ as much, and rarely let on that he was concerned at all, he thought they might have picked it up anyway, irritatingly perceptive as they both were -- but even then, it had never been this consistent, or gut-wrenching whenever he thought about it.

 

It wasn’t like Kagami was completely helpless either; he could take care of himself, and had managed all on his own for several years...hell, he’d gone out of his way to make it clear that he didn’t really need Aomine’s help, for anything, even if he’d more or less accepted when he’d offered it. He had a house of his own, money for the essentials, the support of Tetsu and possibly Satsuki -- once she got over being weirded out and remembered Kagami was someone she cared about -- he could cook for himself and had a reasonable amount of cheap transportation to get where he needed to go...what did he need Aomine for?

 

...Still, there must have been a reason he kept him around, a reason he considered the possibility of his assistance in the future an asset he didn’t want to dismiss, and that...that was the actual root of Aomine’s fear. The fact that Kagami -- stubborn, independent Kagami who never asked for help and never needed it -- saw _him_ of all people as an asset…as something that could help him get through this in the future...it implied two things. One, that he’d already considered the possibility that when that future came around -- whether it was distant or immediate -- he wouldn't be _able_ to provide for himself, and two, that when that day did come, Aomine _would_ be.

 

The very fact that he would put that much unspoken faith in a person he’d made very clear he thought was incapable of handling himself, let alone someone _else,_ was terrifying. How desperate did Kagami have to be, how scared shitless of facing the future by himself did he have to be, to settle for Aomine’s help, when he’d already as much as said -- _to his face_ \-- that he had no idea how to even take care of himself, and relied on Kagami a lot more than Kagami relied on him? That was the real source of his fear...the fact that Kagami was also afraid.

 

As he thought of this, the ball left the tips of his fingers, sailed through the air in a wide arc and jolted the shuddering metal rim of the hoop as it spun, once around, twice...and then tipped and toppled off the side, and missed.

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Not a lot of dialogue in this chapter, but we get a nice view into Aomine’s psyche here...and I think we’re once again due for another time-skip, don’t you? Gotta move this story along!
> 
> Just a reminder, as always, that comments give me life, and keep this story going strong; feed the author!))


	22. Chapter 22

Aomine didn’t go back right away. After over an hour of trying to play his tangled emotions away and running himself in circles, he lingered at the street court for at least another half, putting off his return and simply sitting against the fence with the basketball between his knees, trying to figure out what he should do. He wasn’t used to feeling so indecisive, and before this morning, he hadn’t been; he’d been driven with a plan for himself and Kagami, and the certainty that if they just worked together -- something neither one of them was exactly good at, but after two months of being on the same team (literally and figuratively), something they’d both had to get used to -- then everything else would work itself out. Even the current situation, and the inevitable aftermath, had started to seem a little less terrifying, for awhile.

 

But knowing a little of what it would mean for Kagami, not just in the aftermath but right now, and in the next few months to come, was it even fair to ask him to go through with it? Aomine couldn’t make the choice for him, and at times it did seem like he didn’t have one to begin with, but would it really be worth it to make him go through so much risk and hardship, and give up so much he cared about for this? He couldn’t guess...nor was he really in any place to. This -- all of this -- was going to considerably reshape his future, sure, but it was going to _decimate_ Kagami’s...was he really okay with that? How could he be, if it meant giving up his dreams and the enormous potential he’d worked and strived for all his life, possibly for good? And even if he was, somehow, okay with that...was Aomine himself really okay with sitting by and watching it happen?

 

Sighing frustratedly and pushing the conflicted thoughts out of his head, he stiffly got to his feet and picked the basketball up off the pavement, rubbing his free hand into his temples that were suddenly aching. It wasn’t normal for him to devote a large chunk of his time to such heavy thought and ceaseless worrying, but nothing had ever worried him as much as this. Nothing had ever mattered so much, or had such devastating consequences no matter which way it went.

 

The only thing his exhausted mind that felt wrung like a sponge could conclude was that there was still no right answer here, no solution, and trying to find something that wasn’t there just was a waste of his time and effort. He needed to stop thinking about the future and just deal with what was in front of him right now.

 

And that meant going back and facing Kagami.

 

.

 

.

 

The apartment was conspicuously, unbearably quiet, without Aomine in it. Kagami had never been bothered by that or even really noticed when he’d lived here alone, before...but now he could almost feel the silence pressing down on him; sense the emptiness of the much larger space than the dorm room they’d both left behind. He’d never thought he would miss Aomine’s annoying grumbling and complaining and immature teasing for a second...even just the sound of him padding across the floor in his socks, making the floorboards squeak and reminding Kagami that there was someone else there. He’d never even considered that he would start to feel uneasy or restless in the absence of such things. He couldn’t remember ever getting lonely in the time that he’d lived all by himself, but then, he’d never really been able to compare. He’d become comfortable with Aomine, and had gotten used to having him around, to the point where he didn’t know what to do with himself when he wasn’t.

 

Snorting to himself with a mixture of annoyance and vague, distant distress, he decided to stop moping and set about trying to fill the silence and the emptiness of his home, flicking on the TV in the living room, which automatically started blaring the sports channel. With a soft, rather dispirited sigh, he changed it.

 

As a program with sizzling pots and pans and a calmly speaking man in a white apron flickered across the screen, some of the tension left his face and he turned around, letting the sound of chopping and stirring and the droning of the host play as background noise as he traipsed into the kitchen. The calming domain he’d missed in the time that he’d been bereft of it, bereft of the opportunity to clear his head with the rhythm of stainless steel and the smell of sauce and spices. Not quite the same soothing, invigorating patterns that came with a good game of basketball, but close enough.

 

The sun was setting, and he supposed he and Aomine could both use a good home-cooked meal after going so long on scrounging and improvisation. Throwing on an apron, he got to work, almost automatically falling into his old routine as he assembled his utensils and ingredients, and gradually feeling himself relax.

 

He hadn’t really understood why Aomine had been so adamant about them moving out of the dorm as quickly as possible before, not seeing what the big rush was, but now he thought he was starting to get it. It seemed to be less about the slowly approaching deadline and having a place ready for the child as it was about being in a different environment for the duration of this, for both -- no _all three_ \-- of their sakes. Aomine had been thinking more about the present, then, than the future; about getting Kagami out of the pressure and the cramped atmosphere of that tiny room, and bringing both of them live in a place that felt more like a home than merely a crash pad.

 

As if he’d summoned the other man by thinking of him, the lock on the apartment door clicked as Aomine let himself in, and then it swung open to a muttered, rather halfhearted greeting from him. By now Kagami had the meat for curry cubed and browning on the stove, and was starting on the vegetables, bringing the blade of the knife in his right hand down in quick succession on the carrot in his left. He raised the knife hand in a brief wave and returned Aomine’s greeting without turning around, before returning to the task, but he almost cut his fingers off as Aomine spoke again, this time from right next to him.

 

“You didn’t have to cook dinner, we could have ordered something.” He sounded kind of agitated; subdued and stressed, like he’d been before, and Kagami paused and set down the knife for a moment to look at him.

 

“I know, I wanted to,” he said simply, “It’s been awhile since I’ve been in the kitchen, I forgot how relaxing it is.”

 

Aomine grunted something that sounded charitably affirmative, and leaned against the counter, bracing his elbows on the granite behind him and dropping his gaze. Kagami noted the sheen of exerted sweat on his neck and shoulders, though he was no longer holding the basketball he’d brought with him when he left.

 

“...How was it?” Kagami asked after a moment, looking him up and down and trying to keep the note of envy and longing out of his voice.

 

Aomine sighed, “Kind of cold out.”

 

The brevity and irrelevance of that statement incited Kagami to bristle slightly, and he turned back to his carrot, toying with the handle of the knife but not picking it up. “That’s not what I meant.”

 

“I know,” now Aomine sounded resigned, and he shifted his weight on the tile floor, “And I would have stayed out even if it started fucking snowing. Needed to clear my head.”

 

Kagami supposed he understood that. “Did it work?” he asked, resuming his chopping, though at a much slower, more cautious pace.

 

Aomine huffed a sound that could have been a laugh, “Nope. If anything I think I just screwed myself up even worse. ...It’s no fun playing without you, anyway.”

 

Swallowing past the lump that suddenly formed in his throat, Kagami nodded distantly and picked up the cutting board, bringing it over to the stove and scraping the diced pieces of carrot into the pan with the meat.

 

There was a moment of silence as he started on the first onion, cutting off the ends deftly and stripping away the skin before halving it and starting to slice it into smaller pieces.

 

“...Anything I can do?” Aomine mumbled eventually, stepping away from the counter and peering at him.

 

Kagami shrugged, “You can peel those, if you like,” he said, gesturing with the end of his knife at the potatoes he’d placed in the sink to rinse.

 

Aomine looked at them, then back at Kagami, blankly. “With what?”

 

Kagami rolled his eyes with amusement, “With a potato peeler, dumbass, have you ever used one before?”

 

“Uh...no, not really.”

 

“Tch...hopeless,” he scowled teasingly, setting aside his onion and picking up the object in question, “It’s not rocket science, but I wouldn’t put you past fucking it up anyway, so watch me and do what I do.”

 

He didn’t know if Aomine actually was watching or not as he sheared the skin from one potato diligently, but after a moment or two he spoke up again, quietly.

 

“...Kagami?”

 

“Hm,” he answered noncommittally, setting the now naked potato on the counter and turning to face him. He was startled by the amount of conflict roiling in the blue eyes he was met with, and Aomine visibly swallowed, clasping his hands in front of himself.

 

“Did you...h-have you thought at all about...what the doctor said today?”

 

He blinked, and asked, though he thought he knew the answer, “...Something in particular?”

 

“About how...this...is going to end?” he said, and though he seemed incredibly uncomfortable even saying that much, he still pressed on, “About how y-you’re going to have to be...cut open...I just...something about the way he was talking about it, I don’t…”

 

“You don’t what?” Kagami asked, caught by his tone of voice that said a good deal more than his actual words.

 

Aomine grit his teeth and said, very softly, “I don’t trust him.”

 

Sighing, Kagami turned to attend to the simmering meat and carrots, moving them around with a wooden spoon and lowering the heat underneath them, but his attention remained on Aomine even with his back to him, “Well he’s a doctor...so we kind of have to trust him. And he said it was safe.”

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, only gripping lightly, but that alone was enough to urge him to turn back around, “I know what he said; what do _you_ think about it? ...About all of this, for that matter, you never say how any of this shit makes you feel.”

 

Kagami supposed that was true, but it wasn’t like feelings -- either of theirs -- were a subject that was often brought up between them, any more than they had to be. It wasn’t something he thought they needed or wanted to talk about. But judging from Aomine’s insistence now, maybe he was mistaken.

 

“...Usually that’s because I don’t know,” he admitted after a few seconds, lowering the spoon still clutched in his hand to his side, “I don’t know what to think, or feel. And anything I do know, I’ve already told you.”

 

“Are you afraid?” he’d seen the question coming, but it somehow still surprised him. He hadn't expected Aomine to actually ask outright.

 

He raised an eyebrow, “Of being cut open? Uh...not really, mostly just --”

 

“Of dying?” Aomine interrupted, a telling rasp in his voice.

 

“What? No, why would I…?” But then the context of the question caught up to him, and he hesitated, reading the look of raw fear and worry in Aomine’s gaze, “That’s not...going to happen. It’s not even a possibility.”

 

“It’s not an _im_ possibility,” Aomine pressed, letting go of his shoulder to cross his arms over his chest.

 

Kagami looked at him for a long moment, and then sighed, shoulders sagging, “Why are you bringing this up now? It’s still a long time before we have to think about any of that.”

 

Aomine shifted, and eventually looked away, echoing the sigh with his own. “...Nothing. Never mind.”

 

Kagami thought about protesting, prying for more of what had driven Aomine to consider the possibility that Kagami wouldn’t survive this, but a spitting hiss from the pan behind him redirected his attention for a moment, and he removed it from the burner quickly. Picking up his knife again, he diced the almost forgotten onion in a matter of seconds and hurriedly added it to the mix.

 

When he turned back to Aomine, he saw that he had picked up a potato and was fixing it with an intensely focused, frustrated glare, gingerly, just barely nicking the end of it with the blade of the peeler in his other hand, as if it was made of blown glass instead of solid starch. Refraining from rolling his eyes again, Kagami snatched the vegetable and the peeler from him with a soft, exasperated laugh and set about finishing the job, with faster, much more assured strokes, letting the ribbons of potato skin collect in the sink.

 

“I could’ve done it,” Aomine protested stubbornly.

 

“Yeah, and it would have taken all night,” Kagami retorted lightly, setting the second potato down next to the first, “Can I trust you with getting out some dishes and setting the table?”

 

For a second, Aomine was silent.

 

“You can trust me.”

 

Kagami looked up, but he was already turning to do as he’d been asked, keeping his gaze firmly averted as he left the kitchen without another word. Sighing to himself and shaking his head, he finished the potatoes, chopping them into small, manageable pieces before dumping them into the pan with the rest of the ingredients, returning the pan to the heat and looking in the cupboards overhead for a packet of curry powder.

 

He didn’t want to admit it, but what Aomine had said, what he appeared to be worrying about pretty deeply, was gradually starting to make him worry as well, and he was unable to get the look of plain terror that had crossed the darker man’s face, as he indirectly expressed his fear of Kagami dying, out of his head. He had tried to dismiss that fear as impossible, or at the very least highly unlikely; Kishima had described the operation Kagami was going to have to go through as common, and safe, after all...but even he didn’t seem to be making any guarantees. The prospect of the operation itself didn’t scare him...at least...he didn’t think so, the idea was just mightily uncomfortable to think about, as he figured the idea of going through any kind of invasive surgery would be. But he also knew something Aomine didn’t: that the man Kishima had referenced who hadn’t survived the procedure had been his own mother...which made the possibility itself seem a lot less distant, somehow.

 

_Are you afraid? Of dying?_

 

He hadn’t been before, the possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind, but now that he _thought_ about it…

 

Yeah, he considered himself about as brave and strong-willed as the next guy, but just like that next guy, that didn’t mean he didn’t possess a healthy, human dose of the fear of death. And it was just one more fear to add to the ever-growing list this situation had drawn up, which he’d tried to push down and disregard, but was never completely able to banish.

 

Clenching his teeth, and his fingers around the wooden spoon in his grasp, he switched off the burner and braced his hands against the stove top, dropping his head and squeezing his eyes shut so hard that bright colors flared behind their lids. His hands started to shake, so he released the spoon and dug his fingers into the rounded porcelain edge, taking a slow, controlled breath and trying to calm himself down.

 

He didn’t even hear Aomine approach, and so he jumped about a foot in the air when he spoke from right behind him. He swore that bastard was turning into another damn Kuroko; it wasn’t like him to be so quiet.

 

“Kagami...”

 

Recovering from the sudden upswing in his heart rate, Kagami tried not to give him the same accusing glare he would give Kuroko for sneaking up on him, and turned around.

 

“What?”

 

Aomine’s eyebrows furrowed, even as he gestured absently at the dining room behind him, “I set the table.”

 

Letting out a slow breath, Kagami didn’t bother craning his neck to see if that was true. “I’m fine,” he said instead, addressing that critical, prompting blue gaze rather than the casual statement that failed to cover up Aomine’s obvious concern.

 

Aomine didn’t say anything, and after a moment, he stepped forward and put his arms around Kagami’s shoulders, drawing him into a fierce embrace. Kagami was too startled, caught completely off-guard, to resist him or pull away.

 

“A-Aomine?” he stammered, unsure if Aomine was offering or seeking comfort right now, but his hands reflexively lifted to rest against his back either way.

 

Aomine’s voice cracked when he spoke, and he dropped his forehead lightly onto Kagami’s shoulder, “...I love you, you know?” He said it like a question, this time; uncertain, seeking acceptance and validation. Seeking the answer he hadn’t seemed to require before.

 

Kagami faltered, taking a deep, unsteady breath, but in the end he threw the battle, discarded the conflict, and wrapped his arms tighter around that strong, warm, steady back. Because really, he’d already known what that answer was.

 

“I know,” he murmured against Aomine’s shirt. Then he swallowed thickly, “...I love you too.”

 

He felt Aomine’s shoulders stiffen, and his head lifted to look at him in surprise. “Really?”

 

Breathing out a shaky laugh, he lightly pushed the idiot's chest to disconnect the impromptu but surprisingly fervent hug that he...hadn’t realized he might actually have needed, and stepped back. “Yeah, really. ...Now let me finish this so we can eat. I'm starving."

 

For the first time all day, Aomine smiled, seeming to loosen up and almost deflate with something like relief, a spark of simple joy lighting his eyes as they traveled from Kagami’s midriff up to his face.

 

“Sure.”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Sorry for the delay, and...continued use of this time frame when I promised a time-skip, I was having a bit of a confidence shake with this story, for a couple days, to the point of thinking about tearing it down and rewriting it, or just leaving it unfinished. 
> 
> I must have rewritten this chapter's beginning about four times before I finally decided to dive in and get past this snag at my own pace. In trying to organize this story, I just gave myself a lot of restrictions and it's easier on me if I go with the flow.
> 
> Thank you, to everyone who supported me through that brief bout of writer's block, and everyone who is sticking with this story despite its long, redundant, convoluted path. 
> 
> Comments give me life, as always, if you'd be so kind as to feed the author.))


	23. Chapter 23

The cup of tea beside him had long since gone cold, but Kagami hadn’t noticed. With his ankles crossed and propped up on the coffee table in front of him, he lounged on the sofa, idly flicking through the weathered and rather weighty cookbook in his lap, its pages peppered with post-it notes that had accumulated over the years; notes to himself about preparation and adjustments to recipes he had tried time and time again, and experimented with enough to know what worked best and what didn’t.

 

With playing basketball -- temporarily -- out of the picture, he had quickly and thoroughly immersed himself in his only other talent and interest, particularly over the past month or so since his most recent visit to the hospital; the night he’d returned to the kitchen and remembered its innate power to put him at ease and help him relax. When he wasn’t cooking for himself and Aomine, treating them both to a new dish almost every night, he was glued to the food network on the TV, or found himself perusing old recipes and marking any that caught his interest, jotting down a list of ingredients he would require from his next trip to the supermarket, like he was doing now.

 

It wasn’t necessarily a hassle to get up and move around...not yet, he thought with a creeping sense of dread, but it was rather unnecessary, as he didn’t really have anywhere he needed to go. So he found himself spending a lot of time indoors, when he wasn’t at the store with Aomine, at the street court with him and Kuroko -- though he couldn’t do much more than watch them play from the sidelines -- or at the gym, stubbornly refusing to slip into idle habits that would stick and let his hard-won physique go, just because his daily routine was rather slow and laid-back these days.

 

Lately, Aomine was gone for much of the day, so he’d had to occupy himself alone a lot of the time...though due to winter break giving them some respite from their respective college courses, Kuroko and Momoi had dropped by often to keep him company. As was the case today.

 

A soft knock at the door pulled Kagami from the gyoza recipe he was absently examining, and he let the cookbook fall shut and set it on the table, pushing off of the sofa and shuffling over to answer it.

 

“Good afternoon, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said politely, as the door swung open. Behind him trailed Momoi, who echoed the greeting with a tentative smile and a wave. She still seemed rather awkward around him, he thought, but whether it was because she didn’t feel comfortable as a guest in his home just yet, or because she was still unnerved by his...current state of affairs...he wasn’t sure.

 

By the day, it was becoming steadily more obvious to both himself and others, as Aomine and Kuroko both had commented, that there was something more going on with him than just a lapse in training -- which he had been trying to make up for anyway, by setting up a regular workout schedule. The almost invisible bump over his hips was gradually becoming more pronounced, and lately it was starting to look a little less like he’d eaten a very large lunch and a little more like he was eating for two. He didn’t really know what to think about that, but he had considered that eventually, he was going to have to do something to conceal the fact while in public or he would start to arouse suspicion.

 

“Hey. Come on in,” he replied, stepping back to let his guests inside, offering Kuroko a wide smile, and Momoi a slightly more hesitant variation as she crossed the threshold behind him with a murmured apology for intruding.

 

“I assume Aomine-kun is not home?” Kuroko prompted as he slipped his coat off his shoulders; a slight brightening of his eyes the only indication he gave that he was amused, “Is he still out answering to the rabid interviewers’ whims?”

 

“Actually, someone finally hired him, the other day,” Kagami grinned, motioning to the couch and the space around the coffee table to invite them to sit down.

 

Kuroko’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he started to sit cross-legged on the floor, but Momoi broke in before he could speak, sounding just as startled, “Dai-chan got a job? Where?”

 

Kagami felt a swell of amusement, mingled with a rather incongruous flicker of pride, as he answered with a smirk, “Maji Burger was the only place that’d take his résumé.”

 

To his surprise, it was Kuroko who seemed to find the statement funny, covering his mouth quickly with a hand after releasing a sound that could have been a strangled gasp or a poorly-concealed snicker, crystal blue eyes brimming with laughter.

 

“Tetsu-kun, that isn’t very nice,” Momoi admonished with a pout, propping her hands on her hips before joining him on the floor in front of the table, “He’s been working really hard, and --”

 

“I’m sorry,” Kuroko said breathlessly, looking sincerely apologetic and seeming to soften with chagrin in an instant, “I was just picturing Aomine-kun flipping burgers in a bright orange uniform and visor. It was a very _diverting_ image.”

 

Kagami couldn’t help but laugh as well -- though defensiveness for his...boyfriend? Dare he say fiancée?...also flared at the words that would have been mocking in any other tone of voice -- easing himself down to sit across from them, “They just made him a cashier, actually. Which,” he shrugged carelessly, “I wouldn’t trust his cooking either, even with fast food, so I kind of figured.”

 

Momoi nodded thoughtfully, allowing a faint, fond smile to cross her lips, “Yeah. Dai-chan probably couldn’t even boil water without burning it, and he doesn’t really seem to want to bother fixing that.”

 

“Ah, but you have very little room to talk yourself, Momoi-san,” Kuroko murmured, “Your culinary abilities are frankly no less atrocious and logic-defying than Aomine-kun’s.”

 

“Tetsu-kun --” Momoi objected, sounding affronted.

 

“I have seen the bentos you have made for Aomine-kun in the past,” Kuroko said matter-of-factly, looking at her with a blank, but somehow still reproachful look, “You tried to serve him raw udon on more than one occasion, and your karaage was so overcooked and rubbery, even Nigou would have turned his nose up at it.”

 

Clasping her fingers together in her lap, Momoi flushed brightly with embarrassment, biting her lower lip and dropping her gaze, “I g-guess I do have some room for improvement...”

 

“It’s alright, Momoi-san,” Kuroko soothed, with a tiny, gentle smile in her direction, “You are brilliant in many many areas, the kitchen is simply not one of them. ...Why was Aomine-kun so determined to get employed, anyhow?” he added, changing the subject and turning his impassive eyes to Kagami, “The two of you don’t seem to be in any financial distress, and even if you were, a minimum wage job as a cashier is not going to make very much of a dent.”

 

“I know,” Kagami muttered, scratching the back of his neck uncertainly, “I couldn’t figure it out either at first. I mean the rent’s paid for automatically and we have enough to cover the essentials, but I think...he just wants to do more.”

 

“Why?” Kuroko blinked, holding his gaze.

 

Kagami shrugged, “I’m not sure, he’s been like that for awhile now...it’s kind of weird, but I don’t exactly hate it.”

 

Something deeply contemplative seemed to cross Kuroko’s face, and his eyebrows drew together slightly, “Can you estimate a time? Any significant event that might have caused him to act like that?”

 

Momoi turned to look at him questioningly, “Tetsu-kun…?”

 

“I dunno,” Kagami shrugged again. He felt like he was missing something here. “It’s been awhile, like I said. A month or two at least, maybe longer, and a lot’s happened in that time... Why?”

 

Shaking his head quickly, Kuroko gave him a small, somewhat self-conscious smile and dismissed his confusion, “Never mind. It’s just rather unlike Aomine-kun to be so cautious and driven to help. It’s...remarkable.”

 

“I guess,” Kagami agreed, shifting slightly where he sat. He couldn’t guess when or why Aomine’s mindset might have started to change, and really, how was he supposed to know what that idiot was thinking? Three months ago he might have said Aomine and thinking were concepts that didn’t coincide much anyway, but lately...he supposed Aomine had been pretty thoughtful, and seemed to have carefully considered their current predicament from just about every angle. Kuroko was right; that was remarkable.

 

“And how have you been, Kagami-kun?” Kuroko prompted after a moment, his expression shifting subtly to something warmer, full of camaraderie and concern, “It’s been over a week since we last spoke, and almost two months since you moved back here with Aomine-kun. Has everything been alright?”

 

“Yeah,” Kagami nodded, as he was leaning back slightly to brace his hands against the floor behind him, “For the most part. It’s still a little weird to think about sometimes, but...I guess we’re both kind of used to it now.”

 

“You’re talking about how you’re…?” Momoi began, before breaking off and clearing her throat, her eyes darting to Kagami’s waistline before quickly looking away, “I mean you’re…”

 

“Momoi-san,” Kuroko said softly, imperatively. Momoi blinked and turned to face him, toying anxiously with a lock of long pink hair that hung down from her shoulder.

 

“Kagami-kun is pregnant,” Kuroko went on, enunciating slowly and patiently, “With Aomine-kun’s child. We’ve been over this.”

 

“I...I know,” Momoi stammered, blushing again and shooting a glance at Kagami out of the corner of her eye, “I just...it’s not...it shouldn’t be...possible...”

 

“Do you trust that Kagami-kun would tell you the truth?” Kuroko pressed, still cool and collected, “That Aomine-kun wouldn’t lie to you about this?”

 

“Of course,” Momoi said quickly, pushing her hair out of her face with a hand, “I just…”

 

“You just…?” This time Kagami found that he was the one prompting her, folding his arms in his lap and scrutinizing her. He figured she was conflicted; that she wanted to support Aomine, and by extension him, but that she simply couldn’t accept the reality of the situation in order to do that. It wasn’t a refusal to believe it as much as an inability, then, but maybe there was something that could be done to sway her, and convince her it was true.

 

“I need proof,” Momoi mumbled, tapping the tips of her index fingers together with embarrassment, “Of course I trust you, Kagamin, and Dai-chan too, but I just...I need to see it for myself.”

 

Kagami hesitated, and then got up from where he was sitting and moved over to her. “You need to see it?” he asked, searching her wavering, flustered eyes. She bit her lip and nodded twice jerkily.

 

As Kagami’s fingers landed on the lower hem of his black shirt, Kuroko spoke up, “Kagami-kun, you don’t need to...it is only a matter of time before all of us see proof that this is real, there’s no rush.”

 

Sighing, Kagami glanced his way with a flash of stubbornness, “Yeah, but if Momoi’s just going to feel uncomfortable and keep walking on eggshells until then, wouldn’t it be better for everyone to be on the same page?” Turning back to Momoi, he sat back and hesitantly rolled his shirt up over his stomach, revealing how his toned abs had all but completely dissolved, the skin pulled tight over the smooth, gentle swell of his belly. He swallowed. “If you need to see, then...go ahead.”

 

Though he’d touched it himself, and Aomine had, on occasion, he hadn’t so much as bared his midsection to either of the two people here, since this mess had started, and he wasn’t sure whether to be self-conscious. He’d never had a reason to be ashamed of his body or embarrassed by it that he could remember, but right now...something about the abnormality of the situation had put him drastically off his stride, and triggered nerves that had almost never been active before. But, as far as he could tell, this was necessary. Kuroko seemed willing to take him on just his word, and had instantly believed him and offered his support as soon as he was told, but it seemed Momoi required something a little more tangible before she could accept it.

 

Haltingly, Momoi lifted a curious, questing hand, but for a count of several seconds it just hung there, hovering in place, “Are you sure, Kagamin?”

 

“It’s fine,” Kagami shrugged dismissively, working the fabric in his grasp between his fingers in an unconscious show of fidgeting.

 

“It’s just that Dai-chan all but bit my head off for even asking…” she murmured, scooting closer and slowly, gingerly bringing her hand to rest on his abdomen, exploring the little bulge with slender, trembling fingers. Kagami sucked in a breath at the cool brush of contact against his skin. He could feel Kuroko’s inquisitive gaze on him, but kept his eyes on Momoi, whose face was gradually transforming into awestruck disbelief as she probed tentatively at the foreign area. Come to think of it, it had taken actual, physical contact for the truth to solidify in Aomine’s mind too; maybe he and Momoi were more similar than either of them realized, or wanted to admit.

 

“How did…?” Momoi was starting to ask absently, before she trailed off and quickly withdrew her hand, flexing and closing her fingers as if she’d been electrocuted. Her gaze lifted from Kagami’s midsection to his face, eyes wide and overflowing with a thousand unasked questions. The only one she managed to get out in the end was, “It’s really...y-you’re both really doing this?”

 

Kagami blinked, and then nodded seriously, letting his shirt fall back down over his waist; imperfectly, but still managing to conceal the evidence that anything was out of the ordinary with his body. “When Aomine gets off work tonight, we’ve got another appointment with Doctor Kishima, and he said he’s going to do an ultrasound, so...so we’ll actually see it for the first time.”

 

There was a moment of total silence, in which Kagami watched the two people before him digest the information they’d been given, with varying levels of unease and evident consideration. Tapping his fingers against his knees distractedly, he tried to ease the tension and change the subject, bracing one knee against the floor in preparation to get up.

 

“Can I get you guys anything to drink? Tea?” he suggested, remembering his own neglected cup that was surely stone-cold by now.

 

Both of them blinked at him, seeming taken aback by the question. It occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t brush off such a heavy topic so quickly, but he reasoned that he did have guests, familiar though they were, and probably should have offered his hospitality to them a little sooner.

 

“...I wouldn’t mind some tea,” Kuroko murmured finally.

 

“Mm,” Momoi agreed, nodding absently. She still seemed deep in thought, and a little thrown off by the tone of normalcy Kagami was trying to implement...which he realized was as much a coping mechanism for himself as it was an attempt to calm and placate his company.

 

Cracking a tiny, careful smile, he returned the nod and got to his feet, “Coming right up. Is green okay?”

 

He didn’t hear either of their responses to the casual question, but he assumed they wouldn’t have any objections, and as he retreated into the kitchen to start some water boiling, he could feel both of their intense, prying gazes trained on his back.

 

.

 

.

 

Kuroko and Momoi stayed for an hour or two more, in which they’d maintained a front of small talk about safe, simple subjects; how Kuroko’s Early Childhood Education classes were going, and Momoi’s pursuit of a degree in Physical Fitness, as well as catching up on what was going on in their home lives, and some reminiscing on the good times of the past. Even when they spoke of the time they’d spent together at Teiko, they kept Kagami included in the discussion, and he couldn’t help but be intrigued when aspects of Aomine’s younger years were brought up.

 

“So he defended you?” he was asking, as Kuroko recounted his brush with being thrown off the first string of Teiko’s team, after his first real game.

 

Kuroko nodded steadily, the corners of his mouth tilting ever-so-slightly upwards with remembered gratitude, and possibly pride in Aomine’s actions, “He did, and even put his own position on the team up as collateral, if I didn’t follow through.” Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, he sighed softly and a little wistfully, “But I think he wholeheartedly believed he was in no danger of being demoted...he’d invested that much faith in me to succeed.”

 

“Mhm, Dai-chan believed in you from the start,” Momoi chipped in, smiling, “Even I saw it...he never stopped talking about you and how unfair it was that you worked so hard and never got to see any payoff. I know he respected you a great deal for your perseverance, and still does, even if he won’t admit it anymore.”

 

What they were describing lined up a lot more with how Aomine was acting now -- offering his support and assistance to Kagami however he could and forfeiting his place on his most recent team to better accomplish that -- rather than how he’d been when Kagami had known him in high school. It was true that he’d accumulated a lot of destructive tendencies and complexes and bad habits after Teiko, some of which seemed to stick with him and ingrain themselves into his personality, but was it possible he was starting to revert back, even a little, to how he used to be? And if so...then why? Kuroko’s earlier question regarding a significant event that might have caused the recent change in his behavior came to mind, and he bit his lip, thinking about it.

 

Was it the serious situation he and Kagami were currently in? Discovering the truth about his birth, and the subsequent falling out with his father? ...Or was it something Kagami himself had done? He couldn’t imagine what.

 

After Momoi and Kuroko decided it was time for them to leave, he was left alone with his thoughts for all of fifteen minutes, before the door swung open again and one disheveled and rather annoyed Aomine stumbled inside. Despite the teasing laugh he’d shared with Kuroko, and the bright orange uniform that contrasted horribly with the dark skin it was still draped over, Kagami felt a surge of renewed pride hit him unexpectedly as he was reminded of Aomine’s motivation to help and provide for him even if it meant wearing the ridiculous garment and being civil and polite with total strangers for hours at a time.

 

“Hey,” he greeted him, almost unconsciously reaching out to snag the atrocious orange collar of his shirt and pull him over, capturing his startled, then rather dazed lips in a fleeting kiss before he could get out a word.

 

Blinking once or twice and seeming to loosen up significantly after he withdrew, Aomine fixed him with a teasing sneer, “ _Hey._ ...That’s quite a welcome. What was that for?”

 

Trailing his fingers down Aomine’s bright, almost neon sleeve, he couldn’t help smirking, “Nothing, I was just overwhelmed by the extreme fashion statement you’re pulling off.”

 

“Bite me,” Jerking his shoulder out of Kagami’s grasp, Aomine kicked off his shoes and whipped the dark orange visor off his forehead, raking his free hand through his hair once it was free.

 

“Later,” Kagami promised with a laugh, “First you need to eat and take a shower, and then we have a train to catch.”

 

“I’m not hungry,” Aomine grumbled, with what Kagami could have sworn was a childish, stubborn pout. As he walked past him toward the bathroom he was already shedding the horrendous orange shirt, as if unable to put off getting out of it a moment longer.

 

“Yes you are,” Kagami sighed, rolling his eyes as he followed after him, “You’ve just been around fast food all day, so your appetite’s all screwed up.”

 

Aomine stopped walking, and then his shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy breath, “Okay. Just let me shower first, I’m all gross and sweaty.”

 

“Sure, that’ll give me time to make you something,” Kagami shrugged, starting toward the kitchen.

 

“Hey, Bakagami,” the command froze him in his tracks, and he looked back over his shoulder questioningly.

 

“What?”

 

“What did I say about trying to be my mother?” The question was blatantly exasperated, but there was a faint, underlying note of stress that hung on the last word, which almost slid right by Kagami without his notice. He frowned.

 

Even so, he had to admire his own nerve as he answered, “Just getting in some practice.”

 

Aomine started to scowl, but then the simple, backhanded remark seemed to sink in, and his eyes widened the barest bit before roving over him briefly, assessing. “...Don’t work yourself too hard.”

 

Kagami snorted, “That's my line, Aho. Now get your butt in the shower, I’ll have dinner ready when you get out.”

 

He could almost see the array of potential snarky retorts and dismissive words drop onto Aomine’s tongue, but in the end he just shook his head resignedly and turned to do as he was bid. And Kagami just barely caught the mumbled “Thanks,” he tossed over his shoulder as he left the room.

 

TBC

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((*sigh* I haven't been happy with any of these recent chapters...I think the only thing keeping me writing them is the grand design I have planned for the distant future of this fic. Right now it just kind of feels like I'm filling the time between with a bunch of nothing and dragging this story out too long.
> 
> I've been in a bit of a slump...hopefully I'll snap out of it once I get back into some kind of routine, since school's just started back up an all.
> 
> Comments truly, honestly are what keep this story going, feed the author!))


	24. Chapter 24

Aomine realized he was sulking, hands buried in his pockets as he stood back on his heels and kept his gaze fixed intently on the ground, but even with the awareness that he was being immature and stupid, he wasn’t doing anything to amend for it. Given his way, he wouldn’t be here.

 

It was Satsuki who had insisted he return and try to work things out with his father, but it was Kagami’s contribution to her relentless pestering that had eventually tipped him over into agreeing. The bastard could be damn persuasive when he wanted to be, and aside from that, unlike Satsuki, he couldn’t exactly kick Kagami out of his own house when his wheedling and antagonizing got to be a little too annoying. To spare his ears and hopefully keep the prolonged disagreement between them from turning into a full-blown fight, he’d finally just thrown up his hands and said fine, he would go.

 

That didn’t mean he had to like it. In fact, even just standing there, grinding his teeth and stalling on the front porch, he was pissed off. Especially because, despite his persistent goading before, Kagami had opted in the end not to come with him. The reason he couldn’t was what pissed Aomine off the most, and he came to a resolution right there; that if he talked to his father and his stance on accepting Kagami in his home -- no matter how much he was showing -- was still unchanged, he was turning right back around and leaving. No way was he putting up with any of that bullshit today, especially after the week he’d had.

 

Yeah, working for most of the day was tough, and the job was crappy, but, at least somewhere under that, he acknowledged that it did feel better to be kept busy than if he were allowed to just stagnate and spend all his time either stressing himself out or annoying Kagami. And even if his contribution, however meager it ended up being, wasn’t necessarily needed right now, that might not always be the case. Besides, Kagami had been cooking (and eating) a lot more lately, and he figured anything extra they could afford would be appreciated. So it wasn’t really the new job that was getting to him. That wasn’t all it was, anyway.

 

He never really _stopped_ worrying about Kagami’s fate, and both of their futures in general, especially now that it was getting harder and harder to ignore the fact that hey, it really was starting to look like Kagami might have a bun in the oven, and that meant that _holy shit_ , they really were going to be parents one of these days, but he’d been able to push that worry aside and let off tension both when he and Tetsu got a chance to play ball, which wasn’t altogether frequent, and when he and Kagami got a chance to go at it like rabbits, which _had_ been pretty frequent before, but now...not so much.

 

Sighing to himself, he crossed the remaining few steps to the door and rang the bell, immediately slouching back and returning his hand to his pocket, shoulders hunched and gaze averted in what he was sure was a perfect picture of reluctance. He wasn’t making any secret about the fact that he didn’t want to be here and had been all but forced to come, but whatever...if his father was insulted by that, that was his problem. Aomine still wasn’t over how he’d practically thrown Kagami under the bus the last time they had met, despite all his promises to assist him however he could.

 

After almost a minute, the door opened, and Aomine lifted his head. And instead of looking straight into an older and rather warped mirror, he found himself turning his gaze _down_ on a pair of soft, dark brown eyes beneath a curtain of choppy black hair. He swallowed.

 

“Hey...Mom,” he muttered, unable to keep from sweeping his eyes over her, noticing for the first time how little she actually resembled him. Pale and rather altitudinally challenged, even the shape of her face and eyes were different. _How did I never notice?_ He supposed he had just accepted the reality and the illusions he’d been given ever since he could remember, and never thought to question them. How many people really took the time to wonder if they were adopted, anyway?

 

“Daiki,” she greeted him with a smile, stepping forward immediately to put her arms around him, though she barely came up to his chin standing on her toes, “What a surprise, what brings you here?”

 

Hesitantly removing his hands from his pockets and bringing them gently around her shoulders, he took the first opportunity to break out of her embrace and step back, clearing his throat awkwardly and shuffling his feet. “I guess it has been awhile. Sorry, I actually came to see Dad, is he around?”

 

“He’s home,” she nodded, stepping back to invite him inside, “But it’s been so long since we’ve talked, Daiki, can’t we take a minute to catch up?”

 

Aomine fidgeted uncomfortably, but shrugged as he stepped inside and started to unzip his jacket, “Sure.”

 

“What’s been going on in your life?” she asked, without missing a beat, “How’s college treating you?”

 

Aomine slipped his arms out of his jacket with a sigh. Even if he hadn’t seen her since his high school graduation, there was very little he thought was safe to tell her, if he was going to keep his father’s dirty little secret under wraps. Which...he still wasn’t sure about. It might be simpler not to bring it up, and if he did it might bring his entire world crashing down around him...again...but keeping something so important from the woman who had been his mother, his confidant, since he was a little kid felt terribly wrong and caused a bitter taste to seep into his mouth, riddled with guilt and indecision.

 

“I dropped out,” he said bluntly, refusing to look at her as he made a show of taking off his shoes and arranging them neatly on the mat. Even if he had been pretty obsessive about his footwear -- especially his prized collection of Jordan’s -- in the past, he thought it might have been obvious that he was purposely preoccupying himself and putting off having to face her.

 

“What?” she asked, taken aback, and Aomine could picture her face going pale and eyes widening with shock, “But...you were doing so well, you got a great scholarship and were even going to practice again...what happened?”

 

Aomine grit his teeth, swallowing the hard truth and rising to his feet, but he didn’t turn around. “Nothing. Nothing happened, it just...wasn’t for me, alright?”

 

When he did glance her way, he caught a glimpse of the gently stern look she was fixing him with, hands propped on her hips. “Now look, young man...I’m your mother I can tell when you’re lying to me. You know you can tell me and I won’t be upset, don’t you?”

 

“I...yeah, I just…” Aomine stammered, trailing off, and he was thankfully interrupted by the sound of heavy footfalls coming down the stairs and padding across the hardwood floor.

 

He hadn’t thought he would be relieved to see his father appear, approaching the living room cautiously like he’d just stumbled across the scene of a crime, but he felt a trickle of relief run through him just the same as they locked eyes over the concerned face of his adopted mother. Now, at least, this was his mess too.

 

“Daiki...what are you doing here?” he asked stiffly, crossing over to where Aomine stood and casting a subtle sideways glance at his wife.

 

“I live here,” Aomine replied coolly, shifting his weight to one foot and loosely crossing his arms, “Or...I did, unless you meant you were throwing me out too, before.”

 

He watched his fake mother give his real one a confused look, and the latter shook his head. “Of course you’re welcome here. I was just surprised you dropped by so suddenly.”

 

“Didn’t have time to arrange a visit,” Aomine muttered between his teeth, “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

 

“You can relax and lose the doom-and-gloom look, you know,” his father suggested, waving a hand to his wife when she opened her mouth to speak, “Alright, let’s talk. Can I borrow him a moment?”

 

“Okay,” his mother murmured, wringing her hands, “You’ll be right back?” she turned the last part on Aomine, and he thought he might actually have broken out into sweat under her expectant gaze.

 

“‘Course,” he said, with a light casualty he didn’t feel, and gestured with a hand at the front porch behind him, “Should we talk outside?”

 

“Very well,” his father nodded, walking briskly past him and snatching a coat from the rack. Aomine didn’t bother; it wasn’t as cold today as it had been, and he was itching to get out from under the desperately concerned scrutiny of his adoptive mother.

 

When he and his father actually did excuse themselves and step out on the porch, though, for a several minutes neither of them said a word. Aomine stood with his back to the stairs, facing the front door and his current company, who leaned against the house and was presently withdrawing a cigarette from the pack he’d taken out of his coat pocket, having ample time to light it and place it between his lips before Aomine could think of anything to say.

 

“I thought you quit,” was what finally decided to come out of his mouth. When those critical, deep blue eyes looked up, he kind of regretted the remark, but stood firm; a rather subdued note of accusation in his stance and expression.

 

“I did,” he said at last, with finality, taking a slow drag that caused the ember at the tip to flare bright orange. Then he let out a slow, grey breath on a sigh. “How’s Kagami?”

 

“Don’t change the subject,” Aomine muttered, but he shrugged and slipped his hands in the pockets of his jeans just the same, “Fine, I guess. A little sick of being stuck inside all the time, I think, but other than that…”

 

“Getting rounder by the day, I’ll bet,” his father commented absently, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and flicking ash from the tip.

 

The reminder wasn’t welcome at the moment -- though probably not for the reason his father assumed -- and he scowled, “Yeah.”

 

He’d gotten a good look a day or two previous, when they’d returned to the hospital for Kagami’s second appointment with Doctor Kishima. He hadn’t had much opportunity to see Kagami shirtless before then, because something seemed to have put the redhead thoroughly out of the mood to do anything more intimate than kissing. And he’d figured out exactly what a few days before they’d seen the doctor.

 

They’d been sprawled out together on sofa, as they often were, with Kagami straddling Aomine’s waist and trailing eager, biting kisses up his upper chest and throat, eliciting gasping sighs and soft moans of approval as his own fingers trailed under Kagami’s shirt, smoothing over the tight, hardened points of his nipples. They’d seemed a little larger and more sensitive lately, to Aomine’s delight, as that made them that much more fun to play with. He’d always enjoyed getting Kagami to squirm and groan just by rolling the little buds in his hands, or between his teeth, but there was something in their slightly distended rosiness that reminded him distantly of boobs, and he wasn’t about to complain about that.

 

Kagami, it seemed, was not so thrilled, and as the petting had turned to pinching, he’d pulled back and grabbed Aomine’s wrists with a look of harsh disapproval.

 

“What?” Aomine had protested, but he’d stilled his fingers against Kagami’s chest just the same.

 

“That hurts, dumbass,” Kagami had snapped, all the building arousal and seduction gone from his narrow red eyes.

 

He hadn’t gotten anything remotely close to laid since then. And he’d brought it up to Kishima when they’d gone in to see him, while he was setting up his equipment to examine Kagami not just outside, but _inside_ as well. Kagami had looked rather like he might smack Aomine for the admittedly rather personal question, but had refrained, possibly due to his own curiosity and concern.

 

“Ah yes,” Kishima had said, in that calm, businesslike way of his, “Some swelling and sensitivity in the glandular tissue of the nipples is very common around this time, and you may even see some discharge now and then. Not to worry, though,” he added, as he must have caught the flash of mounting horror that started to cross Kagami’s face, “You will not be developing breasts, or be able to feed the infant on your own. This is purely a hormonal change, and all it means for us is that you’re right on track at the end of the first trimester.”

 

The assurance that he wouldn’t be breastfeeding any time soon didn’t seem to ease Kagami’s nerves very much, but if he was still panicking internally about the very idea, and the more pronounced changes his body was going through, he didn’t say anything about it.

 

“What about you, Daiki?”

 

His father’s voice jolted him out of the recent memory, and he blinked and faced him again, “What about me what?”

 

“How are you holding up?” his father pressed patiently, dropping his cigarette and snuffing it out under his shoe, “You seemed tense the last time we parted, and it doesn’t seem like anything’s improved.”

 

“I’m fine,” Aomine said shortly, scuffing his own shoe and dropping his gaze again, “Since we left the dorm things have been pretty chill, actually. I mean, we’ve been back to the hospital once or twice, but --”

 

“And how did that go?” his father interrupted, indigo gaze prompting.

 

Aomine set his teeth, and then lifted his shoulders slightly in a shrug, “Fine,” he repeated, flatly, “When we went in the other day, the doctor did an ultrasound…” he trailed off, wondering if his face showed a reflection of the emotion he’d felt during _that_ particular experience.

 

If anything, anything at all about this bizarre, convoluted mess up until this point had left the slightest room for doubt, even the tiniest shred of possibility that this was all still part of an elaborate hoax, it had been overruled completely by the little black and white picture that had shown up on the monitor, as Kishima dragged a small, metallic scanner through the gel he’d smeared across Kagami’s slightly swollen abdomen.

 

At first, it had seemed like a pretty indecipherable scrawl of nonsense, but when Kishima started _pointing out_ things...it just about became clear as crystal. Especially the tiny, oblong, throbbing mass that he’d identified -- matter-of-factly as ever, as if he wasn’t kicking them both in the balls with every word out of his mouth -- as the baby’s heart. And when he’d offered to hook up a doppler device and let them both hear the faint little pattering of an actual heartbeat, Aomine’s jaw had dropped, and despite the ridiculously inflated ego he’d been teased and chastised about by several sources, he wasn’t too proud to admit he’d felt damn close to tears. And judging by the hint of moisture that had gathered in Kagami’s wide, disbelieving eyes as well, he wasn’t the only one.

 

On top of that, everything Kishima was saying only added to the ball of visceral, confusing emotion that squeezed at his chest and throat. For instance, hearing their baby -- _their baby_ , it was still such a huge, devastating concept to even think about -- described as “perfectly healthy” had just about sent him over the edge into bawling uncontrollably against Kagami’s shoulder like a complete wuss. He couldn’t even explain to himself why that was. As it was, he’d managed to hold it together at least until they had left the hospital and returned to the apartment, and when he’d taken the redhead who seemed just as stunned and unsteady as he was in his arms without a word, Kagami had come willingly enough.

 

“Daiki…” his father said softly, prompting, and after taking a second to swallow down the still-raw emotions, and all the doubts and fears that had leapt afresh into his mind the moment he’d had it affirmed, once and for all, that this really, definitely was happening, he looked at him again.

 

“I didn’t mean for you to take my words before the way you did,” his father continued after a moment, shifting to cock his leg up against the wall behind him, “I am still available to both of you, as both a source of support and information, I only meant --”

 

“You only meant to keep it all a big secret, and for Kagami to never show his face around here as long as Mom might be able to tell something’s off,” Aomine interrupted swiftly, the remembered sentimental feelings completely vanishing as he fixed him with an unimpressed scowl, “Like it’s something to be ashamed of.” He didn’t give his father time to respond before he went on, standing taller and straighter, “I’m not ashamed. And I know sometimes Kagami is, but he shouldn’t be; he’s been awesome, kicking this pregnancy thing’s ass and taking everything without backing down or thinking of quitting once. I don’t even know if I could do it.”

 

“I know,” his father said quickly, gaze cutting to the side, “You’ve both been very brave, and --”

 

“I don’t want to hear that from you,” Aomine interrupted, arms snapping to cross over his chest, “You’re a coward, and a hypocrite, and yeah, you finally gave me the truth after nineteen fucking years, but you’ve still been lying to Mom since the day you met her.”

 

For a moment, he thought his father might try to admonish him; send him to his room or something, like he was still a goddamn little kid, but in the end he just sighed deeply and looked away from the hard, piercing glare Aomine directed at him.

 

“You’re right,” he conceded at last, “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done in your best interest, to protect you, but you’re absolutely right. I’m sorry, Daiki.”

 

Aomine snorted, but he could still feel a lot of the tension leaving his face and his posture, just like that, “Don’t tell me,” he said calmly, “I’m over it, Mom’s the one you need to apologize to. And Kagami, but I think he can wait.”

 

“But…” his father began, seeming to shrink in on himself, which was as strange an image as Aomine had ever seen, but he was starting to think nothing would faze him anymore. “I can’t...”

 

“If you don’t tell her, I will,” he warned, and with everything in him, he meant it. Maybe it had been the tension that had stretched between him and his mother when they’d spoken before, and he’d been forced to lie to her, maybe it had been the way his father had crumbled so uncharacteristically under his accusations, or maybe it had been something else entirely, but this needed to be resolved. Today. No more secrets.

 

“Daiki…” his father pleaded, in a seeming last-ditch attempt to get him to reconsider. He was having none of it.

 

“Come on,” he urged, crossing the distance between them and resting a hand on the front door, “We’ll go together, I bet she’s waiting for us.”

 

He watched a wealth of deeply-rooted conflict surface on his father’s face, casting a shadow over his expression, and after a drawn-out moment of stubborn hesitation, he let out a long, defeated sigh and inclined his head assent.

 

“Alright...after you, son.”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((At last, a chapter I'm mostly satisfied with...though it took freaking forever. Aomine needed some closure with his dad/mom and adopted mom, and I know some of y'all were looking forward to a chapter about the doctor's appointment, but there was only so much to say about that, so I slipped it in in retrospect.  
> Hopefully things should pick up fairly quickly now, and we'll start this story really moving again, it's been kinda sluggish lately. Thanks so much for the unwavering support, and all the nice, encouraging comments, which, as I'm sure you're aware by now, give me life. Feed the author!))


	25. Chapter 25

“Oh, you’re back,” Aomine’s mother greeted them, from where she’d practically been pacing at the door waiting for them to return, “You left your coat; aren’t you cold, Daiki?”

“I’m fine,” Aomine muttered exasperatedly, brushing off her concern like he had every time she’d asked the exact same thing when he was a kid, and letting the door click closed behind him. He shot a quick glance at his father beside him and noted the tension stiffening his posture and clenching his jaw, as he shed his jacket with brusque, mechanical motions and hung it up. Sighing, he kicked off his shoes dismissively and turned back to his mother, “Um...Mom, there’s...actually something we need to talk about. All three of us. You might want to sit down.”

“Hm?” she asked, blinking owlishly, “S-sit down, why’s that? Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” Aomine said, at the same instant that his father’s lower, gruffer voice said “no”.

Aomine blinked, and looked over at him in surprise for a moment. He was still lingering in the doorway, retaining his air of dignity and composure, but with an underlying hint of hesitation below the surface.

“There are…” he began slowly, redirecting his gaze once again, “Some things you’ve been kept in the dark about for awhile now, maybe one...major thing…”

The unusually dead-serious tone of his voice must have caught his mother’s attention, because she stepped back and slowly sat down on one of the cushions of the living room sofa, never taking her eyes away from him.

Aomine joined her, though he remained standing directly across from the sofa, and he started to open his mouth to go on, but was cut off, as his father drew up silently alongside him.

“First and foremost,” he said sleekly, placing a hand that gripped a little too much like a steel trap on Aomine’s shoulder, “It’s about time you were made aware of the fact that...you’re going to be a grandmother before the year is up.”

Feeling the assurance and confidence he’d mustered drain from his face -- along with the color, surely -- Aomine swallowed and glanced nervously between his parents, biological and otherwise. He had planned to get around to that particular announcement, yes, but he’d intended to lay it out delicately, at the proper moment. His father’s choice of exactly which moment that was seemed almost...diversionary. Like he was stalling for time.

His mother went rigid, shock transforming her expression and widening her eyes to near saucer-like proportions, and her gaze snapped from Aomine’s father to Aomine himself quickly, searching his face and gradually filling with a mixture of dismay, worry, and sheer astonishment.

“Wh-what? A...a grandmother? You…” she reached out, snaring one of Aomine’s hands between her much smaller ones and drawing him closer, lips trembling, “Daiki…? Is it true?”

Aomine let out a low sigh, shoulders slumping, and then offered her a tight, wavering smile, “It’s true. The baby should be due in about five m --”

He didn’t get to finish, because all at once her arms had shot out to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him down into the same snug, surprisingly fierce bear hug he remembered vividly from his childhood. Startled, he floundered awkwardly for a moment, a good deal taller now than he’d been the last time he’d received one of these, and his knees almost knocked against the couch as he reflexively bent down to accommodate her. His throat felt thick, inexplicably, as the gentle warmth and familiar smell of home washed over him, and he drew a shaky breath, banishing the sting from his eyes as one of his mother’s hands smoothed through his hair; suddenly he was nine years old again, instead of nineteen, seeking the comfort and security only her sheltering arms could provide.

“Oh, Daiki…” she murmured after a moment, releasing him and sitting back to look him over again, with a mix of admonishing and concern, “What have you done?”

“I-it was an accident,” the strained, pitiful plea was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he looked up at her from where he was now practically kneeling on the floor, struggling to keep from avoiding eye contact as if she were scolding him for breaking something expensive, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Of course you didn’t,” she crooned, softening in an instant and tracing her thumbs along his cheekbones in a soothing gesture, “Why didn’t you tell me, before now? You used come to me for everything...”

Aomine sat down, legs crossed, right there on the floor, and released the air from his lungs in a slow whoosh, shaking off the remnants of the past; the emotional ties to a time when things were so much simpler.

“I didn’t want you to know,” he said at last, softly. Then he hesitated, sensing the fragility of the ground he was about to tread, and moved his hands into his lap, glancing down at them as he wove his fingers together, “K-Kagami and I...found out we were gonna have a kid about a month after the fall semester started, while we were still roommates sharing a dorm room.”

“Wait...hold on,” his mother said slowly, and Aomine could just about hear the pieces falling together in her mind, “Didn’t you...say...isn’t Kagami the one who beat you in the Winter Cup during your first year at Touou?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment or two of weighty silence. “You never mentioned he had a sister...”

Aomine looked up perplexedly, before shaking his head once, “He doesn’t.”

“Then…?” she prompted, apprehension and confusion emanating from her voice and her expectant posture.

Leaning his head back slightly, Aomine rubbed the back of his neck and squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing the frustration that caught him every time he had to actually say all the words out loud. It didn’t seem to be getting any easier with practice.

“I got him pregnant,” he got out at last, rather hurriedly, but still as calm and matter-of-fact as he could manage, “Somehow...”

“Y-you what?” she stammered, looking more bemused than completely shell-shocked, as Aomine might have expected, as if she simply hadn’t heard him right.

“Kagami. My roommate. He’s pregnant.” Aomine enunciated, more for emphasis than clarity; he was pretty sure she _had_ heard him right the first time, though obviously it hadn’t fully sunk in what he was saying.

She looked at him for a long moment, and then started to shake her head slowly, eyes wide and disbelieving, “That’s...impossible.”

“It’s not,” A deeper, rougher voice chimed in, for the first time in awhile, and Aomine’s father crouched down at his side, scanning over his wife’s face cautiously.

“What?” she asked, lifting her gaze from Aomine to look at him, though she didn’t seem any more convinced, or any less shocked, “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen it for myself,” Aomine’s father went on, deliberately avoiding Aomine’s eye and focusing on her, his face a rigid mask, “I’ve met with Kagami-kun, and I can say with absolute certainty that this is all too real. He and Daiki have also been in to see an expert, who has confirmed it several times over.”

Aomine noticed he completely avoided mentioning his own experience, which would surely have lent much more credence to what he was saying, and narrowed his eyes slightly. He had seemed pretty certain before, that if his mother found out this kind of thing was possible, it would be all too easy for her to piece together the rest...namely, where the toddler she’d claimed as her own son all those years ago had come from. He wondered if, since Kagami’s only option was to be cut open to have the baby, his father might have a noticeable scar from going through the same thing. He wondered if his mother had ever asked about it, and what he might have said to try and gloss it over.

“...You’re really serious, aren’t you?” his mother said eventually, disbelief still stretching across her face, hands tightened into fists on her lap.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Aomine’s father retorted without heat. Aomine expected him to get back up and regain his height advantage, but he stayed put. “It’s no laughing matter. Hard to believe or not, in a few months our son is going to have a child of his own, and when that day comes you and I can either come to terms with that and support him, or not. Either way, it’s still going to happen.”

Aomine shifted where he was sitting on the floor uncomfortably, very aware that while neither of them were looking at him or addressing him directly, all of their combined attention was on him just the same. He wouldn’t usually feel self-conscious about that, but he was having trouble picking up what either of them might have been feeling as they talked this out right over his head. It was a little awkward to be talked about instead of talked to, especially being caught in the middle of a parental discussion, and not having the slightest idea where he stood was a little bit nerve-wracking, to say the least.

“Kagami’s your age, right?” His mother finally asked, tentatively, a direct question for him at last, and he found himself automatically sitting up a little straighter as he nodded in response. “...You’re both still so young. You seem pretty certain, but have you considered all of your options at this point, Daiki?”

Aomine blinked, and then nodded again. _How many more times are we gonna hear that one?_  “Yeah. Kagami and I talked it over a couple times, and he’s not backing out, so...I’m gonna stick with him.”

“I’m not talking about an abortion,” his mother said bluntly. A little too bluntly, and Aomine realized that despite himself, he might have winced. “I mean after it’s born, if this...really is happening, you know you don’t have to keep it, don’t you? You could always find a family who would…”

“No,” Aomine interrupted, crossing his arms over his stomach that was suddenly, inexplicably churning, “I’m not putting my kid up for adoption. That’s not even a possibility. Kagami and I agreed, we’re gonna take care of it together.”

“But you’re still just kids yourselves,” she argued, much more quietly. She didn’t sound angry, or even sternly disapproving anymore, just worried and sad, “Neither one of you is in any way ready to raise a child, you shouldn’t have to take on that responsibility.”

Aomine sighed. She was right, of course, it was completely insane for he and Kagami to try to tackle this alone, at their age, with exactly zero experience handling children between them, but that wasn’t reason enough to consider giving away the baby, provided they did make it to that point. After everything they’d already gone through, all the effort they’d both put in to make this work somehow, he didn’t think either of them would be willing or able to give up now.

“...I had my chance to be careful and think things through before,” he muttered, lowering his head to look at the floorboards below, “And I blew it. We both did. Now we’re both just gonna have to grow up and deal with the consequences.”

For a long moment, it was silent, and neither of his parents said a word. Unable to bear the tension hanging in the air, he looked up uneasily to see both of them watching him with an almost identical expression on their faces. One he didn’t recognize. There was still worry there, yes, and some dismay, but beneath that he thought he might have glimpsed a flicker of startled pride.

“What?” he asked, scooting back away from the couch slightly.

“You sound different,” his mother replied, a small, affectionate smile crossing her face, “More mature, and...serious, or something.”

“Hm,” Aomine muttered noncommittally, pushing off the floor and getting to his feet, keeping his gaze averted to try to hide the sudden surge of embarrassment that was probably, almost definitely causing his face to flush, “Guess I’ve kinda had to be, lately.”

His father rose as well, brushing imaginary dust off his pants absently, “I’m proud of how well you’ve been handling all of this,” he added, “Both of you. Tell Kagami-kun that, for me.”

“You can tell him yourself,” Aomine shrugged halfheartedly, “Unless...is he still banned from coming here or whatever?” _I_ _swear_ _to_ _God_   _if you say yes..._  

“Of course not,” his father shook his head immediately, “That was never the case, I only ever said I can’t allow both of you to _stay_ here.”

“Why not?” his mother broke in abruptly, getting up from the sofa and facing them with a frown, “Don’t you and your Kagami need all the help you can get?”

“I dunno,” Aomine mumbled, shuffling his feet and sure he was only turning redder when he was unable to get the words ‘ _your_ Kagami’ out of his head, “Right now I think we’ve got it pretty under control, and we just got settled in his old apartment...but I dunno how it’ll be later...” he trailed off and shrugged again, meeting her gaze rather helplessly.

His parents exchanged a brief glance, and then a shadow of his mother’s smile returned to her face, “I’d like to meet him.”

“Who, Kagami?” Aomine asked, though there was really no doubt who she was referencing, “I’m sure he’d...like to meet you too.” That might not have been entirely true; Kagami had seemed rather awkward and uncomfortable whenever he talked to Aomine’s father, and seemed to have trouble talking to older adults, especially women, in general. Aomine wondered fleetingly if it had anything to do with the alleged situation with his own mother.

He heard his father sigh, and a frown settled on his own face as he turned to face him. Immediately, his father’s expression turned defensive, but there was a softer edge to it this time, “Like I said, you are both welcome here. You’re free to bring him along the next time you drop by, if you want.”

“I won’t be ‘dropping by’ very often anyway,” Aomine said dismissively, “My schedule’s been kind of freakish since I’ve been working most days.”

“You got a job?” his mother gasped, dropping the grave, ruminating expression entirely and seeming to brighten up all at once, “Daiki, that’s so exciting! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Aomine muttered under his breath, lowering his gaze again, “I just work the register at Maji Burger, honestly it’s a pain in the ass.”

“Language,” his mother reprimanded gently, but Aomine could still hear the smile in her voice, “And that is a big deal, it’s your first time working! We’ll have to celebrate.”

“Mom, seriously…” Aomine protested, holding up his hands in refusal, “It’s nothing.”

Honestly, he thought with a strange blend of fondness and annoyance, he wasn’t a little kid with a loose tooth or whatever, he didn’t even live under her roof anymore, and yet she still seemed determined to play the tooth fairy and make everything into a freaking occasion. He’d almost forgotten that about her, and strangely, for all his objections...after the lapse he’d almost come to miss it.

.

.

“You didn’t tell her,” his father said softly, approaching him as he crouched in front of the door, reaching back to slip his heel into his shoe, “About me, I mean.”

“Neither did you,” Aomine pointed out, deftly tying the laces and standing up straight.

“I thought for sure you would say something, after the subject of you and Kagami was put to rest.”

Aomine hesitated a fraction of a second, and then shrugged, “Whatever. Maybe she’ll figure it out on her own, maybe she won’t. Either way, why should I care? It’s ancient history, and it’s between the the two of you. If you ever feel like telling her, go ahead, but it’s not really my business anymore. You already told me.”

His father said nothing for a few moments, while Aomine slipped his arms through the puffy blue sleeves of his jacket and pulled the zipper up to his throat.

“You really have grown up,” he murmured at last, “Very quickly, over the last few months.”

Aomine allowed a grim smile, and slipped his hands into his pockets, “I guess finding out you’re gonna have a kid in less than a year’ll do that.”

“It certainly will,” his father agreed flatly, “You will keep me updated, won’t you?”

“...Sure,” Aomine said slowly, drawing the word out, “Did you mean what you said about Kagami being welcome here too?”

“Of course. Though I suppose the next time we meet it could be with my new grandson or daughter in tow.”

Something lurched violently in Aomine’s stomach, hearing it phrased that way, and he cleared his throat that had just closed on itself into his fist before straightening and turning to go.

“Yeah, don’t go getting ahead of yourself, old man,” he threw over his shoulder, attempting to regain his composure, “We’ve still got a ways to go before Daiki Junior comes along.”

TBC

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Once again my internet's down, my phone battery's dying, and I'm frantically finishing a chapter in the middle of the night. 
> 
> I'm getting a little concerned for the pacing of this story again, but at least it's still updating, and every chapter is another baby step closer to the eventual goal. 
> 
> Comments give me life, and keep this story going strong. Feed the author!))


	26. Chapter 26

“I can’t keep living like this.”

 

Kagami looked up from the magazine he had propped up against his bent knees, glancing down at Aomine, who took up the other three-quarters of the couch, sprawling on his stomach with his bare feet in the air and his face buried against Kagami’s hip.

 

“What are you on about now?” he muttered, returning his gaze to the glossy pages, licking his thumb in preparation to turn one.

 

Aomine’s propped his head up for a second or two to look at him, a dark glitter coming into his eyes as he caught the dismissive action. Kagami ignored him, flipping the page and idly looking over an article about seasonal spring vegetables.

 

“Come on, Kagami…” Aomine groaned reproachfully, flopping back down, “It’s been almost two months, how long do we have to keep living like monks?”

 

Kagami blinked, and frowned at him, “Dumbass, does this look like a monastery to you?”

 

Aomine just groaned again, the frustrated noise muffled by the cushion pressed to his face, before lightly headbutting Kagami’s thigh like an insistent cat begging to be petted. Absently, Kagami dropped a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, which only elicited another sound of complaint.

 

“We haven’t done anything in _weeks_ ,” he grumbled, leaning into the light touch in contrast to his sulky words, “I want to fuck…”

 

“I’m not in the mood,” Kagami shrugged carelessly, injecting indifference into his tone when all he really wanted was to tackle him to the couch and make up for the lapse, “And I don’t think Junior should be taking any hard knocks right now anyway.”

 

That wasn’t the whole reason he’d been rather reluctant to indulge Aomine’s very obvious advances these past few weeks, when the idiot wasn’t preoccupied with work, or completely wiped out after a long shift. Truth be told he was feeling a little deprived and pent-up himself, but while the...technicalities of doing it with Aomine while he felt so bloated, heavy and clumsy as of late were daunting enough, he’d still been feeling pretty sore in places, and had once again been rushing to the bathroom more frequently than he might have liked...though this time it was the other end that was taking its displeasure out on him. He wasn’t about to explain the all-around embarrassing grossness of that to Aomine, though, so he’d stuck with the excuse that he just wasn’t feeling it. Even though he was in fact feeling it very much.

 

“Kagami, I swear to God,” Aomine pleaded, actually _pleaded,_ voice pitching almost into a whine, “I will give you my ass on a fucking silver platter, I just need to get laid before I die of blue balls or something.”

 

“You won’t die, don’t be such a drama queen,” Kagami scoffed, but let the magazine fall closed nonetheless, allowing a provocative hint of interest to come into his voice as he considered the rest of Aomine’s statement, “You’d really give me your ass, though? Let me take you hard and tight and ride you into next week? ...Maybe do you so good you won’t be able to stand up for work tomorrow?”

 

“For fuck’s sake, _yes,_ ” Aomine sighed explosively, desperation evident in the moan around the edges of his voice, and the way he squirmed restlessly against the sofa under the verbal onslaught.

 

“Huh,” Kagami said thoughtfully, and then smirked and hit him lightly over the head with the magazine in his hand, “Alright, I’ll take it.”

 

Aomine sat up with a disgruntled scowl, as if about to object to what was in all honesty little more than a love tap, but then all at once what Kagami had said seemed to hit him. “Wait, seriously?”

 

Rocking back to gain momentum, Kagami got up and stretched his arms casually over his head, very aware that the action caused his shirt to lift and reveal the bare skin of his waist and the jutting curve of his belly, “I mean unless you don’t want to…”

 

Aomine scrambled off the couch and was at his side in a second, grinning widely and practically bouncing up and down with anticipation. Kagami had to bite his lips to keep from snickering at him.

 

“That’s what I thought.”

 

“Less talking, more stripping,” Aomine said sleekly, grabbing impatiently at the lower hem of Kagami’s shirt.

 

Kagami swatted his hands away, “Can’t you at least wait ‘til we get to the bedroom?”

 

“Fiiiine,” Aomine drawled, starting to fold his arms with a huff. He froze in the act, seeming taken aback, when Kagami grabbed his wrist to pull him along, and after a split-second of hesitation, allowed himself to be dragged, stumbling after him without comment.

 

Once in the bedroom, Kagami wasted no time yanking his shirt off over his head and snatching the front of Aomine’s, bringing them together toe to toe, chest to chest, and kissing him long and hard. He was rewarded immediately with Aomine’s eager moan, deep in his throat, and his hands slinging around his waist and pulling him closer. They didn’t fit perfectly anymore, with the considerably more evident swell of Kagami’s belly between them, but Aomine didn’t seem to mind, and in fact was all too enthusiastically stroking and teasing the taut, sensitive skin with roving fingertips when Kagami decided to break the kiss and start to undress him as well.

 

Dragging Aomine’s shirt up his toned bronze chest slowly, he let his fingers smooth over the hard, bunching muscles of his abdomen up to his nipples, unable to resist tweaking one of them.  He felt Aomine shudder with breathless excitement, and after a moment’s teasing hesitation, he let his shirt fall to the floor and started on the fly of his jeans.

 

“You’re this hard already?” he smirked, hearing Aomine’s breath hitch as he framed the obvious bulge in the front of his pants with his hands.

 

“Sh-shut up,” Aomine gasped, voice rolling almost into a groan as Kagami leisurely stroked his thumb over the hot, denim-covered flesh, his eyes flitting closed as he pressed his hips insistently into his touch.

 

“I wonder if I can make you cum just like this,” Kagami whispered against his flushed cheek, grinding the heel of his palm down against the straining erection in his grasp. He wasn’t sure if the answering moan that spilled from Aomine’s lips was encouragement or protest, but either way he lifted his hands away with a parting stroke, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans with deft, impersonal motions and pushing them down around his hips.

 

“Some other time, maybe.”

 

Aomine nodded absently, breathing shallow between his teeth, and didn’t resist as he was manhandled to the bed and pushed on his back, while Kagami set about stripping the remaining clothing from him. Once he was satisfyingly naked, sprawled out and panting in anticipation, Kagami paused to slide open the bedside drawer, digging around inside before producing a small clear bottle, which he tossed onto the bed beside Aomine.

 

Closing his fingers around the bottle as if it were a foreign object, Aomine inspected it critically, and then raised an eyebrow at him, “You bought lube?”

 

Kagami laughed as he pulled out a second item from the drawer -- an unopened box of condoms -- before nudging it shut and rejoining him. “Trust me, your ass will thank me later.”

 

Aomine’s face scrunched up adorably, and he sat up halfway, shaking his head. “No, I mean...you were planning this?”

 

Kagami shrugged, tearing open the box as he slid one knee onto the bed, “I figured it was just a matter of time before you gave in and asked to bottom,” he reasoned with a knowing grin, “You’re so fucking easy.”

 

“Bastard,” Aomine growled, only to melt entirely with a sigh as Kagami leaned over to kiss him, reaching up a hand to snag in his hair. Kagami tried to keep up with him and shimmy one-handed out of his jeans at the same time, but after a few seconds of futile struggling and awkwardly bumping noses, he gave the battle up for lost and broke away to take care of the problem, shucking his pants and underwear and tossing them aside, reaching distractedly for a condom without taking his eyes off Aomine, who was watching his every move.

 

“You don't need that,” he muttered as he caught wind of Kagami’s intent, nodding to the foil packet in the hand Kagami wasn’t bracing against the mattress, “Neither of us have any diseases or anything.”

 

Kagami snorted as he moved over to straddle his waist, poking him in the chest, “Moron. We’ve made enough of a mess by being careless already, we are _not_ risking anything else.” Expression softening once that was made clear, he leaned close and fluttered his eyelashes coyly against Aomine’s cheeks, “Now shut up and let me fuck you.”

 

Aomine shut up, though from the way his eyes went dark and his nostrils flared, it seemed like he was viscerally affected by the raw, rather crude command, delivered in a sultry undertone just inches away from his ear. If the little spasm that jerked the flushed, glistening length of his hardened cock wasn’t enough of an indication that he liked what he heard. Kagami allowed his gaze to flit over it, passing the tip of his tongue along his lower lip thoughtfully, but although he could see Aomine starting to hold his breath, watching him expectantly, in the end he just sat back without touching him once.

 

“When did you get to be such a goddamn little tease?” Aomine breathed, a rough edge of frustrated laughter in his voice as Kagami ripped open the foil and started to roll the condom on, making sure to touch and stroke himself liberally when he knew Aomine was watching.

 

“You’re one to talk,” Kagami huffed dismissively, fumbling for the lube as he bent over him again, meeting his heated, grudgingly amused eyes, “And don’t call me little, asshole. You’re only two centimeters taller than me.”

 

“Two whole centimeters,” Aomine agreed with a cocky, taunting grin, passing a hand around Kagami’s shoulder blade, down to the more prominent curve of his waist, “Though I guess lately you haven’t really been that little…”

 

Kagami almost spilled the lube he was judiciously pouring into his hand all over Aomine’s chest and probably the sheets, sputtering as his front of seductive confidence wavered and threatened to fizzle out entirely at the backhanded comment.

 

He snapped the bottle closed and averted his gaze, shifting his weight back on his heels and trying -- despite the fact that they were both naked and aroused with his cock sheathed in latex and his hand practically brimming with lube -- to stave off a burgeoning wave of doubt.

 

“Can you not…” he began, making as if to push Aomine’s hand away. Instead, it shifted up to cup his chin, pulling him back around to face Aomine’s compelling, somehow reassuring gaze.

 

“Would you quit getting so hung up on that?” he asked, with a gentle flicker of teasing beneath his serious expression, “So you’re showing like a barefoot school teacher, so what? I think it’s kind of hot.”

 

Kagami’s eyebrows furrowed, “Seriously?” When Aomine didn’t back down from his claim, looking up at him stubbornly, he lowered his head and released a laugh on a drawn-out, exasperated sigh, “You’re so weird...”

 

Aomine shifted and raised his hips just slightly, drawing attention to his neglected cock standing proudly to attention, “Yeah, and I’m also horny as fuck, could you maybe do something about that, Bakagami?”

 

Rolling his eyes, Kagami lowered his slippery hand and scooted closer to give himself better access to Aomine’s exposed ass; “As you wish, Your Highness,” he muttered, smoothing his fingers gradually in between the cheeks and easing them apart. Aomine’s breath left him in a rush, and as a lubricated thumb probed at his hole and started to press inside, he tipped his head back slightly with a muffled grunt, exposing the taut columns of his throat.

 

“Too much?” Kagami asked in an undertone, leaning over him to carefully watch his face, currently contorted with profound response as he swallowed and sweat started to bead beneath his ruffled blue bangs.

 

“Not enough --” he panted, repositioning his legs so that his knees were spread, feet planted against the mattress to lift his hips up higher.

 

“This isn’t your first time, is it?”

 

Aomine barked a laugh, eyes flitting open to fix him with a leer, “You don’t want the full list of things I’ve stuck up my ass before, trust me,” he assured him. But he must have caught Kagami’s dumbstruck (and admittedly intrigued) expression as his fingers worked deeper inside him absently, because he amended the statement a moment later, “Or maybe...you do, but -- nnh -- not right now...do that again...”

 

That explained Aomine’s apparent lack of inhibitions when it came to switching up their usual routine; though he supposed he shouldn’t have assumed just because he’d never topped Aomine before that Aomine had never been topped, or wouldn’t ever want to be. He’d never thought to ask before now, but he supposed this was as suitable an opportunity as any.

 

“You all good?” Aomine asked breathlessly after a good minute or so, during which Kagami had in all honesty been indulging himself, playing with Aomine’s ass as he leisurely opened it up and got a feel for the warm, snug inside of his body. He was in no rush, personally, but judging from the barely tempered impatience in Aomine’s ragged voice, the same could not be said for him. There had been a hint of concern, too, in the question, though that was far less evident, and he was a little unsure from where it stemmed. He wasn’t going to ask, and simply nodded in response, retracting his fingers from the hot, slick vise that clamped down on them and monitoring Aomine for any sign of pain as he did.

 

What he got instead was a flash of deep blue eyes and a feral bearing of teeth as Aomine leaned up to kiss him hard. It was wet, it was messy, and it took him completely by surprise. So much so that for a few seconds, he couldn’t even react, and by the time he registered that he ought to, Aomine had pulled away to give him a wild, hungry smirk.

 

“Good,” he said, guiding Kagami closer with his legs, digging his toes urgently into his calves,“Then hurry up and fuck me before I go out of my goddamn mind.”

 

“So pushy,” Kagami grumbled under his breath, positioning himself and making sure the condom was still in place. The already unconvincing complaint was completely belied, however, by his eagerness to follow Aomine’s instructions down to the last syllable.

 

.

 

.

 

“...We’re getting close now, aren’t we?” Aomine asked quietly, after almost a solid half hour of silence. The heavy, musky smell of sex hadn’t completely dissipated yet, though they’d cleaned up as much as they could manage without leaving the bed, and neither had moved an inch since then. Aomine, for his part, just seemed to be musing out loud, but his voice still carried a hoarse rasp from the surprisingly loud, often profane cries that had wracked his throat as Kagami pounded him into the mattress. He hadn’t expected him to be so vocal, and he’d actually considered covering his mouth at some point to keep from disturbing the neighbours and getting them both thrown out.

 

Lifting his head slightly, Kagami rolled over on his side to look at him, though he’d preferred lying on his back, these past few weeks; it took the pressure off his stomach a little.

 

“We’ve still got three or four months to go,” he muttered, rubbing an exhausted hand over his face, still streaked with sweat all the way up into his hair, “It’s not time to start freaking out yet.”

 

Aomine gave a soft, short laugh and folded his arms behind his head, “Hey, I’ve been freaking out since this thing started. I was actually thinking it’s kind of weird that I’ve felt so calm, lately.”

 

“Not that weird,” Kagami shrugged, as much as he could manage while lying on one side, “You know how like the week before a big game you get all excited and stressed out and you can’t sleep and stuff, but once you’re about to actually get on the court you’re totally calm?”

 

“Uh...no? Not really,” Aomine said, looking at him blankly.

 

Kagami sighed, “Right, I forgot....bad example to use with you. But for most _normal_ players, that’s how it is.”

 

“So you think this is like that?”

 

“I dunno,” Kagami admitted, “It’s just a guess. That or this is the calm before the storm and we’re both going to totally lose it when the time comes.”

 

“And I guess we won’t know either way until it does,” Aomine remarked, looking up at the ceiling absently.

 

“Yeah...I guess not.”

 

For a moment or two, neither of them said anything, but just when Kagami was starting to consider pulling the blanket up and calling it an early night, Aomine spoke again, without looking at him.

 

“Kagami?”

 

“Hm.”

 

“...Thanks.”

 

Kagami blinked, and sat up, “Huh? For what?”

 

Aomine didn’t answer for an unacceptably long stretch of time, and Kagami reached over to push his arm emphatically.

 

“Don’t ignore me, idiot. What was that for?”

 

“Nothing,” Aomine said, letting his eyes fall closed, “Just thanks.”

 

Grumbling to himself irritably, but recognizing that he wasn’t going to drag anything else out of him like this, he sighed in defeat and grabbed the edge of the blanket, covering them both.

 

“Whatever. You’re welcome,” he muttered ruefully, already feeling fatigue weighing down on his eyelids, trying to drag him under.

 

“Kagami?” Aomine’s voice broke the quiet again, inciting Kagami to reach up and hold the bridge of his nose, feeling a frustrated headache building.

 

“What is it now?” he asked, admiring his own patience in the face of the idiot’s persistent pestering.

 

He could practically hear the grin in Aomine's voice, “Love you.”

 

 _That does it._ Seizing a pillow, Kagami swung his arm to whack him in the head with it.

 

“Dumbass,” he concluded to himself, tucking his fluffy weapon back under his own head and turning away.

 

And it was only after Aomine stopped snickering -- attempting and failing to stifle the sound -- and his breathing turned deep and even with slumber that Kagami added, in a barely-audible whisper, “You too.”

 

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

It didn’t matter how much he shifted his weight or leaned against the counter in front of him, Aomine’s feet were still aching like hell. He hadn’t done all that much walking, but he’d still been on them all day, forcing service with a smile that was as much of a non-grimace as he could manage and mindlessly punching buttons on the register as he rang up the orders of an ever-fluctuating stream of hungry patrons.

 

He hadn’t looked at a clock since it struck noon, and was determined to keep it that way in hopes of the time passing faster as long as he was unaware of it. It didn’t help that he was sweating his balls off in this itchy nylon uniform and the veritable wave of heat and steamy, greasy fumes that emanated from the kitchen behind him. It was damn hard to feign a pleasant attitude when he was becoming increasingly more convinced that he was deep-frying in his own perspiration, standing in this practical oven for hours on end. But he hadn’t snapped or so much as scowled at a paying customer yet today, which he counted as a small victory.

 

“Welcome to Maji Burger,” he droned for the umteenth time, hardly glancing at the next person queued up before him, “Can I take your…?” For a second, he trailed off, confused, as there didn’t seem to be anyone there, though he could have sworn the line had moved. He felt a familiar chill, that contrasted uncannily with the unbearable heat he’d been suffocating under all day, and blinked, “Tetsu?”

 

Even though it proved his suspicion correct, he still jumped as Tetsu answered, popping into view right in front of him as if he’d just decided to teleport there at that exact moment.

 

“Hello, Aomine-kun,” he said simply, inclining his head in a polite bow of greeting, as if this was only the first or second time they’d ever met.

 

“What are you doing here?” Aomine asked skeptically, not fooled by his innocent routine, fingers hovering over the register indecisively as he narrowed his eyes at him.

 

“I like the vanilla shakes here,” Tetsu deadpanned, with a ghost of an amused smile, “Shouldn’t you know that by now? Speaking of which, I will take a small one now, please.”

 

“That’s all?” Aomine muttered, but he rang it up anyway, unable to fight an exasperated smile, “Some things never change; you still eat like a picky toddler. That’ll be ¥170.”

 

Tetsu bent his head to count out the proper amount, ignoring his comment. “When do you get off?” he asked without looking up, passing two hundred yen over the counter as the register drawer clinked open.

 

Aomine broke his streak of willful ignorance regarding the time and checked the clock over the door, pleasantly surprised to see it was a quarter to five already, “Fifteen minutes,” he said, handing Tetsu his change and the receipt as it spat out.

 

“Good. Meet me outside when you’re done; we’ll go to the street court and play a quick match.” When Aomine started to protest that he was already exhausted after a full shift, Tetsu cut him off with a meaningful look from his flashing blue eyes; silent but deadly. “It’s been awhile since we’ve talked.”

 

“Fine,” he sighed, before putting on his patient, dealing-with-customers face and handing over the shake, “Thank you very much, please come again.”

 

He might have imagined it, but he thought Tetsu might have smirked at him as he brought the straw up to his lips and turned away. He did imagine it, he decided; he must have, because in all the time he’d known him, Tetsu had never _smirked._

 

It was probably the uniform, he thought ruefully, plucking at the stiff, ugly collar that chafed uncomfortably at his neck. Whoever said blue and orange were complementary colors was out of their fucking mind.

 

.

 

.

 

It was considerably cooler outside the restaurant, and there was a merciful breeze blowing, ruffling through Aomine’s sweat-pricked hair as he removed the visor from around his head. Letting out a slow breath, he rolled his shoulders to loosen them up and glanced around for Tetsu, expecting him to pop up and scare the shit out of him any second, as he was so prone to do.

 

He was almost disappointed, then, when Tetsu decided to approach him like a normal person this time, still not quite finished with his shake -- though he’d ordered the smallest size, for fuck’s sake, it was a wonder he ever got anything resembling nutrition in him, the way he ate. Aomine looked him up and down, unable to put his finger on it at first, but something seemed to be missing.

 

“You don’t have a ball,” he accused triumphantly as it hit him, suspicion immediately setting in as he shoved his hands in his pockets, “I knew it. We’re not really playing a match, are we?”

 

“Oh we are,” Tetsu said elusively, not seeming particularly put out by his wariness, nor his backsliding into his usual lack of manners. But that was pretty typical of Tetsu; impossible to read, impossible to reason with. “Come with me, Aomine-kun...there is no need to look so doubtful, don’t you trust me?”

“...Sometimes,” Aomine shrugged, falling into step beside him, “Do you have to be so damn mysterious all the damn time?”

 

“You said ‘damn’ twice, Aomine-kun, that’s redundant,” Tetsu advised, and while it was strange to hear any profanity -- no matter how tame -- in his calm, polite voice, Aomine did notice that he wasn’t being any more straightforward than before.

 

“Yeah well, maybe I’m making up for eight hours of ‘ _Thank you, sir’s_ and ‘ _Of course, ma’am’s_ ,” Aomine simpered, in a considerably higher, nastier tone than he had ever actually used with a customer, “Being forced to be so fake and friendly all day long would make anyone lose their goddamn mind, not to mention their grammatical sense.”

 

“So why don’t you quit?” Tetsu asked. He didn’t sound provoking or reproachful, just genuinely interested to know.

 

Aomine paused, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk as he considered what he could actually say. Even if he could make up a reason that might salvage his pride fast enough, Tetsu would see right through it...he was good at that.

 

He sighed, “I’ve been...unnecessary,” he said shortly, putting one foot in front of the other again and keeping his gaze fixed on the sidewalk. Tetsu gave him a wide berth and a moment’s expectant silence, but he didn’t add anything else to the miniature confession. Tetsu was undeniably skilled at dragging information out of him when he wanted to, but he was going to have to try a little harder than that.

 

“And you think staying in a job you hate that takes up the majority of your time and barely earns a living wage will fix that?” Tetsu prompted finally, and okay, _now_ he was sounding a little provocative. Aomine bristled.

 

“I don’t have to stay in it forever,” he muttered between his teeth, “But I have to start somewhere. What else can I do?”

 

“You could spend your time taking care of Kagami-kun, and helping him through  --”

 

“He doesn’t want my help,” Aomine interrupted, and though that fact did bother him and frustrate him without a doubt, saying it out loud, he sounded almost dejected. “...Doesn’t need it,” he added, when Tetsu didn’t respond, scuffing a loose chip of concrete with the toe of his shoe.

 

“Have you offered to help him?” Tetsu asked finally, fixing him with a lucid, enigmatic stare, “...Have you even tried to?”

 

“Of course I’ve fucking tried,” Aomine said flatly, “The idiot just blows me off every time, so I’m helping the only way he’ll let me.”

 

“It’s true that Kagami-kun can be very proud,” Tetsu admitted, bringing a hand up to rest his knuckles against his lips, “And he has been more or less entirely self-reliant for several years; he’s not used to asking others for assistance, and probably believes accepting it would count as weakness on his part.”

 

“I know. I thought it might change the further we got into this...mess, but it’s been almost six freaking months and he won’t even let me bring him things so he doesn’t have to get up.”

 

He heard a sharp breath escape Tetsu, and looked down at him in confusion, only to realize the sound was actually a stifled laugh, if the mirthful grin he was utterly failing to hide against his own hand was any indication.

 

“What’s so funny?” he frowned, taking his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms defensively.

 

“It’s nothing,” Tetsu quickly mustered a straight face and glanced up at him, “I just never thought I’d see the day. Why did it take Kagami-kun getting pregnant for you to become a decent person?”

 

“Alright, you’re asking for it, you little shit,” Aomine growled threateningly, snatching an arm around Tetsu’s neck and grinding the heel of his palm down on his head, ignoring his cry of protest as he mercilessly noogied him, “Got anything else to say about me, smartass?”

 

Managing to wriggle out of his grasp, Tetsu sprang out of reach and irritably attempted to flatten his hair down, which he should have learned by now was a completely futile endeavor.

 

“Just that Kagami-kun is lucky you’ve decided to be so supportive all of the sudden,” Tetsu said primly, standing up straight, “He deserves that in a friend as well as a partner.”

 

Something in Aomine’s stomach prickled, with a hot green flash of jealousy he didn’t quite understand. Something about Tetsu talking about Kagami like he knew him oh so well, better than Aomine did, which...honestly, yeah, he probably did. Tetsu was much more the kind of person Kagami would be willing to let his guard down around and open up to, and even if he didn’t, the perceptive bastard could just dig out anything he needed or wanted to know on his own.

 

“I’m not doing anything special,” he muttered dismissively, “That dumbass needs someone to look out for him, that’s all...even if he won’t admit it.”

 

“And that someone has to be you?” Tetsu asked lightly, and for the second time tonight, Aomine stopped in his tracks, the jealous prickling evolving into a full-grown itch.

 

“Well yeah,” he said briskly, turning to face him, “It’s my kid he’s carrying.”

 

“Is that the only reason you’re sticking around?” Tetsu pressed, searching his face with those unnervingly knowing eyes of his.

 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Tetsu.” A moment of silence fell as a group of college girls passed by, talking among themselves. Tetsu watched them go until they were out of sight, and only when his gaze returned did Aomine continue. “What’re you after, exactly? You think I’m not staying with Kagami for the right reason?”

 

“I don’t know your reasons for staying or not,” Tetsu said calmly, lifting his shoulders in an uncaring action that was as false as his tone, “I’m just concerned for my friend.”

 

“Of course you are,” Aomine drawled, and then paused a moment as that phrasing hit him fully, narrowing his eyes. “What does that make me?”

 

“This isn’t about you, Aomine-kun,” Tetsu sighed, “You know where we stand.”

 

 _Do I?_ “...What about Kagami?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“Don’t play stupid. Where do you stand with him?”

 

Tetsu was silent a moment, and bit his lip contemplatively. Something Aomine had only known him to do when he had something to hide. Aside from his usual elusive, tight-lipped bullshit, anyway.

 

“There’s some kind of history between you two, isn’t there?” he pressed insistently. Kagami had denied it, of course, and had shut down any attempt to bring it up in conversation since, but that hadn’t allayed Aomine’s suspicion at all.

 

“In our second year at Seirin, yes, there was a brief period that we...attempted to date.”

 

“What the hell does ‘attempted’ mean?” Aomine grumbled, wrestling his hands into the pockets of his slacks and averting his gaze. Having his hunch confirmed did nothing to cool his prickling temper, nor the notion that Kagami had all but lied to him when he’d asked him about Tetsu before. What had he been trying to hide?

 

“It didn’t work out,” Tetsu shrugged dismissively, “Almost immediately we agreed that we work much better as friends, and mutually decided to break it off.”

 

“Well then why would Kagami…?” Aomine began hotly.

 

“Any questions you have for Kagami-kun, you can ask him yourself,” Tetsu suggested, turning his pale blue head as they passed the fence surrounding the brightly lit street court.

 

Aomine followed his gaze, and glimpsed a familiar figure leaning against the chain link mesh on the other side, resting a weathered basketball against one hip as he met him with a flash of bright crimson eyes.

 

“Kagami?” Aomine asked skeptically once he was within earshot, feeling his own shoulders stiffen in alarm, “What are you doing here, dumbass? Did you walk all the way from the apartment by yourself?”

 

“It’s not that far,” Kagami argued, stepping away from the fence and turning to face him, “And it’s not like I’m completely helpless, I’m just --”

 

“Were you playing?” Aomine interrupted, eyeing the basketball in his grasp and crossing his arms.

 

“No, but I’m going to,” Kagami said, lifting his chin defiantly, “Kuroko said so.”

 

Aomine took the excuse to turn his irritation on Tetsu, who had the nerve to look unapologetic, watching them both with impassive interest.

 

“What the hell, Tetsu?” He demanded, gesturing to a disapproving Kagami with one slashing hand, “He can’t play, why would you tell him that?”

 

“Aomine-kun,” Tetsu said placatingly, walking right past him and avoiding the range of his outrage, “Kagami-kun is pregnant, not dying. Of course he can play, if he feels up to it.”

 

“But if he goes all out --”

 

“Neither of you is in any condition to be going ‘all out’,” Tetsu reasoned, taking the ball from Kagami and driving it experimentally against the pavement before tossing it at Aomine’s chest. With his reflexes dulled by exhaustion and monotony, he still caught it one-handed, but it was a near thing. “You’re wiped out after an eight-hour shift and still in your work uniform; Kagami-kun is five months pregnant with half his typical metabolism,” he shifted his unassuming blue gaze between the two of them, “As things stand, even I could probably destroy you both. But I don’t intend to.”

 

Aomine threw a glance at Kagami, who raised his odd eyebrows expectantly and folded his arms over the evident swell of his midsection, “He’s right. Nobody’s expecting flashy plays or the Zone or anything, there’s no reason we can’t take it slow.”

 

“Basketball doesn’t always have to be a match to the death, you know,” Tetsu added emphatically, “Sometimes it can even be relaxing.”

 

“Alright, I give,” Aomine sighed exasperatedly, “Jeez, you two are stubborn enough on your own, why do you need to gang up on me?”

 

“You know, that’s not a bad idea, Kagami-kun,” Tetsu said thoughtfully, exchanging a glance with Kagami, who smirked back, “If Aomine-kun feels so inclined to doubt your abilities, perhaps we ought to show him what we’re capable of together.”

 

“Fine then,” Aomine conceded, “Bring it on, but you’re gonna regret it.” So saying, he threw the ball back to Tetsu, unable to decide between the spike of possessiveness that had flared up anew at his statement, and the determination to prove both he and Kagami’s smug faces wrong. Either way, he couldn’t deny it would be a challenge, and in some strange, nonsensical way, he felt relieved.

  


TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Figured I ought to finish this half-done chapter at some point, it's been hanging on for weeks now. And I feel I should apologize, but I'm once again having difficulty getting up the determination to write large chunks, and I've lost the flow of this story. Maybe it'll come back, maybe it won't, but updates will probably be pretty irregular or nonexistent for awhile.
> 
> Thanks for your patience, and for sticking with me through all this story's ups and downs. Comments still give me life, and help a good deal with these slumps I keep falling into. Feed the author!))


	28. Chapter 28

It wasn’t too bad. At least, Kagami reasoned, he wasn’t falling on his face again or feeling like his legs were going to give out at any second. He had felt more energetic, and slightly more at ease moving around these days than previously -- despite the stiff, encumbering difficulty with bending and twisting at the waist -- and unlike when he’d had to keep up with teammates and opponents alike pushing ahead at full steam, both Kuroko and Aomine seemed to be taking the game surprisingly slow. He was especially taken aback by the latter, and he figured that either Aomine was just more exhausted than he’d originally thought and was running on fumes already, or he was deliberately holding back; probably for Kagami’s sake, as Kagami could vividly remember watching him cream Kuroko with no remorse when they’d played against each other in the past.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but in any case, this slower, more patient tempo than the rapid, blistering insanity he was used to was virtually no trouble to keep up with. And though there was a lot less jumping and running back and forth along the court, and plays focused more on strategic fakes and carefully aimed shots, he found himself loosening up and grinning with a kind of fierce joy the longer they played and the more immersed he allowed himself to become in the game he loved. 

 

He’d lost track of the score somewhere between the ball streaking into his grasp like a comet from an invisible phantom just outside his field of vision, and the beautiful arc of a free throw even Midorima might have applauded sailing from the tips of Aomine’s fingers as he cleared Kagami’s block, plunging effortlessly through the hoop without even touching the rim. He had a feeling that despite his restraint, intentional or otherwise, Aomine was probably in the lead, as usual...and he was about to ask, while crouching to set up a shot of his own, if Kuroko was keeping up with points, when he was suddenly and effectively sidetracked.

 

It kind of felt like he’d missed a step going down stairs, or that he was spontaneously about to throw up, to the point that he actually dropped the basketball and started to cover his mouth, before it occurred to him that he didn’t necessarily feel nauseous. Just...weird.

 

He hadn’t said anything, but both Aomine and Kuroko had rushed to his side in a split-second, hovering over him with varying degrees of mounting worry and panic stamped across their respective faces. He started to straighten, and was about to brush off their concern impatiently, when that strange rolling, almost fluttering sensation hit him again, inciting him to stagger back a step in alarm.

 

“Wh-whoa…”

 

“Kagami!” Aomine had reflexively grabbed his upper arm, presumably to keep him upright if he should start to collapse, and was scanning his face with frantic, demanding eyes, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Kagami assured him, his hands already tracing and probing the swollen curve of his abdomen to be sure, “I just…” He hesitated with a rather shaky, uncertain laugh, “I-I think something just...moved…?”

 

He heard Aomine suck in a breath, and in an instant his hands were covering Kagami’s own, steadying and searching as he leaned over him desperately, “Wh -- seriously? Y-you could feel it? Are you sure?”

 

“I...I think so…” 

 

As if on cue -- or maybe, he thought with a jolt, just maybe in response to one or both of their voices -- he could most definitely feel something press up against the tightly stretched skin, shifting and slowly turning over beneath his and Aomine’s waiting fingertips. 

 

“Holy shit…” Aomine breathed, barely audibly, his hands shaking subtly against Kagami’s as they cradled the soft, rounded bulge more closely. The movement settled again after a second, but both of them still stood by with bated breath, not daring to move, in case it happened again.

 

“Was it a kick, Kagami-kun?” Kuroko cut in, startling both of them enough to jump and whip around to see him inspecting them with an inquisitive air of interest. Personally Kagami had all but forgotten he was there...which was pretty standard, considering it was Kuroko, but still, he’d been right next to him the whole time without making a peep until right then.

 

“Not really,” he said cautiously, without moving his or Aomine’s hands away, “At least, I don’t think so...more like a somersault, or something…”

 

Bringing his knuckles up to his lips, Kuroko nodded slowly and thoughtfully, as if to himself, “All the excitement and physical activity may have jostled things around and caused the baby to grow more active...which is probably to be expected around this time.”

 

“Who made you the expert, Tetsu?” Aomine hissed snidely, before seeming to shrink back slightly from Kagami’s reproachful glare, “Ah, um...I guess that does make sense though. We weren’t playing very hard, but it’s still more than you’ve moved around in awhile.”

 

For several moments, Kagami didn’t answer, or move his hands away, until finally Kuroko cleared his throat into his fist and spoke up again.

 

“Should we stop?”

 

_ “No, _ ”  Aomine and Kagami said in unison, equally fervently, and after blinking once in surprise, the corner of Kuroko’s mouth lifted slightly in a fondly amused, if rather exasperated smile and he shook his head.

 

“Just for the day? We can resume the game another time, but playing until you drop from exhaustion would not be wise. For either of you.”

 

“I can still go,” Kagami insisted, glancing at Aomine expectantly, “What about you?”

 

Aomine just nodded briskly, seeming undeterred, but there was a glint in his eyes that spoke of heightened stress and concern, most likely for Kagami’s sake, which was as exasperating as it was admittedly touching. 

 

“It’s also starting to get dark,” Kuroko pointed out patiently, gesturing to the deepening indigo sky overhead, fading to brilliant purples and oranges on the horizon and already beginning to glimmer with the first smatterings of stars, “I understand both of your enthusiasm for the game, but there will be other chances to play in the future, I assure you.”

 

Kagami exchanged a fleeting, doubtful glance with Aomine, who seemed equally unconvinced. It had been months since he’d been able and allowed to set foot on a court of any kind, and with Aomine so preoccupied with his busy work schedule, the odds of them having another opportunity for a match like this before the looming due date rolled around were very slim. And what about after? He couldn’t really see them squeezing in enough time to play even a quick game amid the constant demands that would come with the baby’s eventual arrival. In fact...he couldn’t really see anything at all past that no longer so distant day of reckoning, but a strong feeling in his gut told him this could very well be one of the last times he would hold and shoot a basketball for a very long time.

 

“Ten more minutes,” he implored, holding out his hand for Kuroko to pass him back the ball as he stepped away from Aomine’s steady, protective warmth.

 

“Five,” Kuroko showed no visible sign of annoyance or reproachfulness, but his tone was particularly crisp as he obliged and tossed the ball to him.

 

“Seven,” Kagami haggled desperately, spinning the ball between his index fingers and starting to bend his knees to shoot.

 

Kuroko sighed, even as Aomine bared his teeth fiercely and started toward the net with a purpose, ready to intercept Kagami’s shot or snatch the rebound, whichever applied.

“Fine. I’m setting a timer.” Dipping his head, Kuroko lifted his wrist and pressed a series of buttons on his watch, before straightening and hurriedly backing up to join Aomine under the net.

 

Taking a slow, deep breath, Kagami put all his focus into savoring the feel of the ball’s firm dimples pressing against the pads of his fingers, the reliable spring of his strong legs propelling him as he released it with a flick of his wrist and watched it sail toward the hoop. He almost imagined he could hear the seconds ticking by, eating away the fixed, finite time he had left to enjoy such things.

.

 

.

 

“That was my win,” Aomine declared confidently, with a teasing, self-assured grin that effectively concealed the sting of regret he must have also felt, leaving the glow of the street court behind as the three of them started down the sidewalk, the last filaments of dying sunlight at their backs, throwing dark, towering shadows out on the pavement before them.

 

“Tch, you wish,” Kagami scoffed, rising to the very obvious bait and nudging him halfheartedly in the ribs. Though he had fair reason to believe that Aomine was right, stubbornly arguing the point and bickering back and forth was a matter of habit by now, reminiscent of that time -- a seeming eternity ago -- when they had played freely like this on a weekly, sometimes nightly basis. Often enough for all the scores to blur together and the clear victor on a given day to become just about anyone’s guess.

 

Kuroko, apparently not in on the running gag, looked up at Kagami to helpfully correct him, “I do believe Aomine-kun won this round, Kagami-kun. By a rather significant margin.”

 

Both Kagami and Aomine fell silent, each directing their gaze to a different, scraggly edge of the rugged sidewalk, allowing Kuroko to fall in step between them without replying. Though he hadn’t picked up on the attempt to smooth the tension and bitterness a moment ago, he must have sensed the heavy atmosphere that lay in the air now, because he didn’t say anything else all the way back to the apartment.

 

When they reached the front step, he paused, adjusting the strap of his shoulder bag as he prepared to head off on his own into the rapidly falling night. His dorm was a good half dozen blocks away, at least, Kagami knew, and something twisted nervously in his stomach thinking of Kuroko making that trek alone in the dark.

 

“Well,” Kuroko was saying primly, dipping his head politely to each of them in turn, “I’ll be taking my leave then, Kagami-kun, Aomine-kun…”

 

“Why don’t you come inside?” Kagami blurted out, disregarding the skeptical look he was thrown by Aomine, in favor of responding to his gut instinct to protect his smaller and more vulnerable friend, “It’s too far to walk in the dark; you could spend the night and head out tomorrow.”

 

“Kagami,” Aomine interjected, with an ill-disguised pointed look in Kuroko’s direction, “It’s not that late yet, there’s no reason to do that. Besides, Tetsu doesn’t want to sleep on the couch.”

 

“That’s...very kind of you,” Kuroko began, as if Aomine hadn’t spoken, though he did shoot him a quick, uncertain glance out of the corner of his sharp blue eyes, “But I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

 

“Not at all, you’re more than welcome,” Kagami assured him, making a point to step on Aomine’s toes when the jerk started to open his mouth confrontationally, likely to spout another rude comment to bely what he said. He was actually surprised; not because Aomine was always the model for perfect manners, but because he’d assumed he and Kuroko were -- or had been, at least -- pretty close friends. Why was he so adamantly against Kuroko staying over, then? They were all equally worn out from the makeshift match, none of them had class or work tomorrow morning, and there was no logical reason he should have to walk all that way by himself at night.

 

He got an affronted scowl in return for his preventative action, and Aomine crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest but didn’t say anything else, as Kagami opened the door to the building and waved for Kuroko to enter.

 

“What the hell’s your problem?” he hissed once Kuroko was out of earshot.

 

“Nothing,” Aomine grumbled defensively, averting his gaze like a scolded child and leaning against the door frame.

 

“You’re being an asshole,” Kagami informed him matter-of-factly, propping the door open with one shoulder, “What did Kuroko do to piss you off so much?”

 

“I’m not pissed off,” Aomine argued petulantly, through gritted teeth.

 

Kagami snorted, “Tell that to your entire face. Did something happen earlier? Is that it? You’ve been shooting dirty looks at him since the match started, did he say something to you?”

 

Aomine’s eyebrow twitched, and he looked even further away, turning his head and fixing his gaze on the courtyard outside the apartment complex.

 

“You’re not going to tell me?” Kagami pressed insistently, crossing his arms as well despite the particular hindrance of his jutting midsection.

 

Aomine mumbled something unintelligible out of the side of his mouth, positively sulking in the doorway, and Kagami flat-out rolled his eyes in exasperation.

 

“What was that?”

 

“I said he said he was your ex,” Aomine snapped, reluctance and aggravation oozing from his stiff posture and narrow, still evasively downcast eyes, “Happy?”

 

“He said that?” Kagami asked doubtfully, ignoring the spiteful jab and refusing to let Aomine get a rise out of him.

 

“Well no,” Aomine muttered, “He said there was a time when you guys tried to date, but it didn’t work out. Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Kagami blinked, honestly at a loss. “Because it didn’t work out?” The way Aomine had asked made it sound like he’d hid something scandalous, or outright betrayed his trust.  _ That _ was what this was about? “Yeah, we dated once, we broke up, it’s not a big deal. Are you only getting so worked up over this because you’re jealous?”

 

He should have known not to ask outright. Immediately, Aomine was on the defensive. 

 

“I  _ asked _ if you and Tetsu were ever a thing, like,  _ ages _ ago and you said no.”

 

“Because we weren’t ‘ _ a thing’ _ ,” Kagami retorted, standing his ground unapologetically, “We didn’t even last a month, and we only kissed once, the day we decided to break it off.”

 

Aomine  _ squirmed _ at that, eyebrows drawing down sharply in a harsh grimace as he took a seemingly involuntary step back. “Why did you ask him to spend the night? It’s barely --”

 

“It’s dark out,” Kagami interrupted, “It’s far. He shouldn’t be walking alone at night, he could get abducted, how many reasons do you want? ...Yeah, I invited him to sleep over. On the  _ couch _ , like you said. You’re the one blowing it way out of proportion and being stupid and possessive over nothing.”

 

Aomine sighed deeply, but still refused to meet Kagami’s eye, “It’s not just that.”

 

Kagami resisted an urge to just throw up his hands in defeat, forcing patience, “Well what is it, then?”

 

“He was...he said...a lot of things…” Aomine began, obviously struggling over the words as they left his mouth. Then he faltered, squeezing his hands together and seeming to withdraw further.

 

“What things --?” Kagami began, but he was interrupted as a soft, cool voice spoke from directly behind him.

 

“If I’d known you weren’t going to follow, I wouldn’t have gone on ahead,” Kuroko prompted, not seeming to notice he’d practically given Kagami a heart attack, though he’d jumped about a foot in the air and clutched at his chest as if to demonstrate the fact. Aomine, on the other hand, didn’t look surprised, and must have seen Kuroko approach and trailed off in what he’d been trying to say.

 

“Dammit, Kuroko, don’t just go sneaking around people!” Kagami admonished, keeping one eye on Aomine as he swung the door open further to allow them to pass through. And as he chewed Kuroko out all the way up the stairs, having to stop at the landing and pant because he’d run out of breath, he could have sworn he felt Aomine’s gaze hanging on him as well, monitoring him and seeming just a little less dejected and annoyed than before. 

 

He would have to address the issue at hand another time, but he got the feeling taking Aomine aside and listening to him, even if he’d dismissed his concerns as ultimately pointless in the end, had made some kind of difference already. 

 

He really was just like a sulky little kid at times, in need of reassurance and validation, however fervently he might deny that he was acting out of jealousy. Oddly enough, Kagami thought, Aomine’s occasional swings of childish behavior and almost constant demand for attention were kind of like practice for the real deal.

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Another chapter I had waiting half-finished in my drafts for a couple weeks...even if this snail's pace keeps up, I'm still updating and this story is still moving along, at least. 
> 
> Yeah so it was AoKaga day yesterday and I figured I should muscle through my slump and finish this one. I also received some encouraging messages to keep going with this story, which helped a lot.
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life, feed the author!))


	29. Chapter 29

Aomine’s arms were getting tired, but the energetic little figure beaming wide and gripping the chains of the swing careening back to him showed no signs of slowing down, so he just shook his head with a short, fond laugh and reached out to give him another push.

 

“Higher, higher!” came the insistent peal of his son’s giggling voice, as his sandaled feet almost touched the cherry blossoms that hung full and sweet over the playground, raining their petals down in shimmering pink flurries whenever the wind blew.

 

“Any higher and you’ll grow wings and take off,” Aomine grinned, taking a step or two back to avoid the backlash of the groaning swing, and watch the simple joy on his son’s face as he flew through the air. A warm, familiar sense of affection and contentment started to glow in his chest, and all of the sudden the swing’s momentum was cut, as tiny sandaled feet crunched through the wood chips to drag it to a stop.

 

The child’s head was bowed, face obscured by the fringe of his bangs, his thin, pale arms that he’d wound around the swing’s chains going limp and falling into his lap. Frowning at a harsh stab of concern, Aomine came up behind him and laid a hand over his shoulder, the sheer size of it seeming to dwarf the creature’s tiny frame.

 

“What happened? Are you hurt?” he asked, looking him all over for possible injuries, but none seemed evident, and the gentle question only seemed to cause his diminutive form to shrink further into itself.

 

“This isn’t fun anymore,” the voice that issued from the slumping figure was muffled, unclear, but Aomine still caught the meaning, and the startling bitterness and despair behind the simple statement.

 

“Hey…” he murmured, walking around the swing and crouching before the child to try to meet his downcast, hidden eyes, “What’s wrong, son?”

 

“I’m not your son,” the child said; matter-of-fact, almost emotionless.

 

“Wh...what do you mean?” Aomine asked shakily, taken aback and unable to escape the surge of dread that came over him, freezing ice cold through his tightening chest and lungs and into his bloodstream, “O-of course you are, why would --?”

 

“You’re not my real father.” Getting up from the swing that had transformed into the edge of a peeling, paint-chipped porch step, the unfamiliar child started to walk away from him, facing the blinding sun as a black cut-out of a miniature stranger. He paused at the edge of the curb, overlooking the blur of the bustling street. “You didn’t know? I was adopted...just like you.”

 

“That’s -- impossible,” Aomine breathed out; he couldn’t even hear his own voice over the roar of the traffic. His throat felt blocked. Like he was breathing through a straw. He could barely get out a whisper.

 

“Nothing’s impossible anymore,” the child stated simply, with a soft, horribly hollow laugh, “That’s what you said, right?” Slowly, he started to turn around, as the enormous wind of the speeding cars blew his bangs away from chilling ice blue eyes, “My real father is Kuroko Tetsuya.”

 

Then he casually stepped off the curb, in one fluid motion, and as Aomine lurched forward to try to catch him, the blaring horn of an oncoming bus preceded the deafening crack that split his head open.

“Fuck!” Aomine cursed aloud, rolling onto his side and clutching the back of his head where he’d smacked it hard against the headboard. Blinding pain pushed purple spots in front of his eyes when they squinted open, and he gritted his teeth and gingerly felt the spot, struggling to sit up in vain due to having tangled himself hopelessly in the sheets.

 

“Whathahell?” came Kagami’s slurred, gravelly mumble from right next to him, and the mattress dipped as he shifted to sit up and face him. Still cradling his head and blinking away pained tears and the last clinging, confusing cobwebs of the vivid dream, Aomine stopped trying to fight free of his veritable linen straitjacket and just lay still, panting as if he’d run a mile and registering -- beyond the agony radiating through the back of his skull -- that he was drenched head to toe in a layer of cold, sticky sweat.

 

“Wha...what happened?” Kagami asked, voice still slightly blurred with sleep and confusion, interrupted by a long, audible yawn. “You shouted loud enough to wake the whole building up.”

 

“Nothing,” Aomine muttered, checking the hand he’d pressed to the lump forming on his scalp to make sure he wasn’t bleeding, “Just a stupid dream.”

 

“A nightmare?” Kagami pried, leaning over him to peer down muzzily at his face.

 

Wriggling out of the mess he’d made of the sheets, Aomine managed to sit up and folded his arms against his knees. “Not really,” he said tenuously...then, “Kind of.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kagami sounded resigned, like he was too tired to actually care what it was about, but concerned enough to try and fake like he did. Aomine supposed he had just woken him up screaming like he was being murdered, but that was more of a knee-jerk, animal response to the level of pain he’d awoken in than to the content of the dream that had caused it.

 

Running a hand doubtfully through the back of his damp hair, and wincing as his fingers skimmed over the recent, throbbing injury, he sighed and let it fall in his lap as he glanced up, deciding to humor him. “...I think our kid was in it.”

 

Immediately, a spark of interest lit up Kagami’s face, and he leaned closer, suddenly the picture of an alert, attentive audience. “Really? What did it look like? How old? Was it a boy or a girl?”

 

Aomine waved off the rapid influx of questions that only seemed to worsen the pounding of his head, “I don’t know, it was a dream, dumbass. I couldn’t even see his face.”

 

“A boy, then,” Kagami noted, eyebrows drawing together thoughtfully over his practically gleaming eyes.

 

“Shut up, I’m not a goddamn oracle,” Aomine snorted, before grimacing to himself, “At least I sure hope I’m not.”

 

“Why? Was it that bad?”

 

“...Weird, mostly,” Aomine shrugged, “I was pushing him on a swing, but then I wasn’t, and I think the time and place changed at some point, it was kind of unclear...”

 

“It was a dream,” Kagami supplied impatiently, urging him on with his eyes, “So what happened? Did he say anything?”

 

Aomine dropped his gaze, “He said I wasn’t really his father.” He was surprised to feel a real, remembered prick of grief at that; it wasn’t like it had actually happened, but for some reason it was still really upsetting to think about. “Then he...walked right in the street and got hit by a car. I think.”

 

Kagami looked at him blankly for a long moment, before shifting to rest his hands against the lower curve of his swollen abdomen, barely visible beneath the sheets.

 

“Dark,” he said at last, reproachfully, like he was personally offended by this.

 

“I can’t help what I dream about!” Aomine retorted indignantly, “Shit, this is probably all ‘cause you let Tetsu spend the night…”

 

“You’re gonna blame Kuroko for your bad dreams, now?”

 

‘ _My real father is Kuroko Tetsuya…’_ Aomine scowled and pushed the afterimage of piercing blue eyes away, “He’s easy to blame, alright?”

 

Kagami looked at him straight-on, unimpressed, “How long are you gonna hold a grudge against him for things that happened in the past? I thought you guys used to be friends or something.”

 

“Yeah, the key phrase there is ‘ _used to be’,_ ” Aomine said flatly, moving to the edge of the bed in preparation to get to his feet, “A long time ago. And even then, we barely got along outside of basketball, we’re just too different.”

 

Kagami blinked, “Kuroko and I are different too, but we still get along fine.”

 

“I noticed.” Pushing off the mattress and turning his back, Aomine threw his sweat-soaked shirt over his head and opened a drawer to dig out a fresh one, “Why are you so determined for me and Tetsu to be buddies again anyway? It’s not like it’s your business.”

 

He heard Kagami huff a breath, and the bed creaked as he got up as well, “Because I can see him reaching out to you. He tells me all the time how worried he is about you and how much he wants to help.” He paused, and as he drew up alongside Aomine, his voice took on a tinge of malice, “Plus, we were both under the impression that you were _less_ of a dick now...I guess some things never change.”

 

Aomine narrowed his eyes at the change of tone and glanced over at him, clean shirt and sweats folded under his arm, “You really want to pick a fight this early in the morning, don’t you?”

 

Kagami crossed his arms defiantly, unapologetically over his chest, purposely standing in his way, “Maybe I do.”

 

Aomine sidestepped around him, striding past and pausing a moment in the doorway, “Well I don’t. I’m taking a shower, I expect breakfast and a better attitude when I get out.”

 

Not giving Kagami time for a retort -- though from the plain outrage that flashed across his face, he thought he could guess what a few of them might have been -- he slipped into the bathroom and leaned his back against the door as it clicked closed.

 

He was starting to get the hang of recognizing and shutting down Kagami’s mood swings, he thought. Though usually he would take the slightest excuse to fight right back in a second, arguments based on nothing substantial that just led in circles weren’t satisfying at all, for either of them. Besides, these days Kagami was downright terrible at finishing what he started, and tended to either change the subject or go totally silent and unresponsive right when they got to the thick of it, leaving Aomine with a wealth of frustration and anger needing an outlet, and an annoying niggle of guilt if he tried to keep pushing. It was better to just avoid the whole thing, if possible.

 

The fact that doing that got him out of a discussion he didn’t particularly want to have was purely circumstantial, he decided, as he stripped off his remaining clothes and switched on the shower faucet. If he was going to talk to anyone about his current situation with Tetsu, he figured it ought to be Tetsu, not Kagami and his well-meaning list of defenses for him. The only thing was, the elusive little bastard didn’t seem all that interested in having that conversation, and had blatantly skirted around Aomine’s last attempt to figure out where they stood after all this time.

 

As far as he was concerned, their relationship was still the same as it had been in high school: _It’s complicated…_ Tetsu had never been the easiest person to talk to, and if Aomine were to seek him out now and try to do that; even try to apologize for what had driven them apart in the first place, it would probably still be seen as too little too late. And it wouldn’t erase the uncomfortable tension that had stretched between them, wavering but never fully dissipating, these past four or five years.

 

Being clued in to the fact that Tetsu was also Kagami’s ex only served to rub the salt in even worse. And he didn’t think it was petty jealousy that had lodged it so deep under his skin; at least...he was pretty sure that wasn’t all it was. It was the fact that they’d both kept it from him this long. Deliberately, it seemed, since Kagami had definitely made an effort to keep him in the dark about it even after being asked directly. How long they were not-really-together or how far they’d gone while they were didn’t amount for shit, it was the principle of the thing. They were supposed to be his friends. Or at least one of them was...and he’d been very open with Kagami up to this point; laid himself bare physically and emotionally and offered his support, introduced him to his family and surrendered the company of both his (former?) long-standing friends to him.

 

For all that, there was still a gaping void in what he could say he knew for certain about Kagami. When he’d asked about his family, he’d gotten a few cookie-cutter sentences of explanation out of him before he’d grown defensive and started fielding further questions. And then he’d as good as lied to him when he asked about Tetsu. Could he really trust anything else he’d said after that? Or would talking to him always be like a game of two truths and a lie?

 

 _What was it he said?_ He snorted, thrusting his head under the steamy spray and closing his eyes as the water snaked down his shoulders and spine, _‘You’re a brainless idiot, you don’t get to be mysterious’?_

 

His version of Kagami was loud and in-your-face, and bright as a burnt bulb. It was weird, and kind of disturbing, to think of him being deceptive, or particularly cunning. To think that his version of Kagami might not be the only one. Kagami didn’t keep secrets (as far as he knew), he just didn’t...say much when it came to his personal life. Which he wasn’t really supposed to _have_ anymore, considering they lived together now and everything they had was shared.

 

So he supposed his frustrations with Tetsu were mostly just extended frustrations with Kagami. Tetsu was an easier target; less likely to bite back full-force if bitten, but he hadn’t really done anything wrong.

 

Well, not _recently,_ anyway.

 

The only thing that really bothered him about the fact itself, that they’d been together...past tense...oddly enough, was that it hadn’t worked out. That they’d only lasted a month before apparently agreeing that they just didn’t work. Yeah, they were pretty different people in habit and temperament, but Kagami had said himself that they got along well in spite of that, and they’d stayed close friends throughout high school, and even after. If his relationship with Tetsu built on camaraderie and mutual respect had fizzled out after a couple of weeks, what did that say about his relationship with Aomine? Built on...what, sex and food and basketball? If he hadn’t gotten Kagami pregnant -- and really, what had the odds been of _that_ happening? -- would they have lasted any longer on their own?

 

Some sinking feeling told him they probably wouldn’t have...but, he thought as he scrubbed Kagami’s citrus shampoo absently through his hair, gingerly avoiding the sore spot in the back, maybe it didn’t matter either way. What had happened happened, and maybe the fact that they were going to have a kid together was reason enough to put in the effort, to make it work where it otherwise wouldn’t.

 

Tipping his head back to rinse out the fragrant, foamy suds, he was surprised to feel strangely heartened by that train of thought. They’d both made it this far, after all; stumbling and shoving and bickering all the way, and because they were so similar, both stubborn as rocks and about as clever, he didn’t think they had the capacity, or the _sense_ , to turn back or break apart now.

 

He would have had to be a damn fool to sign onto this particular level of insanity, he reasoned, but there was an odd sense of comfort in knowing that, even though he’d been given the objectively worse end of the deal, Kagami had still signed on too. They were doing this, together, whatever that ended up entailing. And in that, if nothing else, he could say for certain that they were on the same page.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Well, it seems lately this story's churning out a struggling, bare-bones chapter every two months...not the streak of successive updates I'd hoped for this summer, but whatever...I'll take it.  
> It's not that I don't have ideas for this story, it's just...getting all the stuff in between down, and having it work with what's happened so far and what I plan to happen, while keeping the pacing consistent and accounting for everyone's experience of certain events...it takes awhile.  
> But you know what really helps motivate me to put in the time and effort and keep the updates coming? Feedback! I couldn't ask for a nicer bunch of readers, and I'd like to thank you all for sticking with me and this little tale for so long, through all the ups and downs. And as always...  
> Comments and kudos give me life, and keep this story going...however slowly and painstakingly...feed the author!))


	30. Chapter 30

Kagami hadn’t looked up from the stove in almost five minutes, silently simmering along with the yellow froth of eggs in the pan and listening to the scrape of table legs in the background as a groggy Kuroko sat himself down at it in the other room. He’d insisted his friend at least stay for breakfast, despite Kuroko’s repeated attempts to excuse himself politely and slip away, practically asleep on his feet with his hair unkempt and still in his clothes from the day before. If pressed, Kuroko would probably have, as tactfully as possible, led up to the fact that he was only half-welcome here and didn’t want to be the cause of any grief or tension. It was most likely Aomine’s fault, then, that he hadn’t wanted to stick around. 

 

_ Bastard…  _ Kagami seethed as he carefully tipped a bowl of diced vegetables into the omelette-in-progress.  _ Insensitive asshole...thinks he can just -- _

 

“Hey, hands off!” He barked, slapping his spatula down on a set of thieving fingers creeping stealthily into his peripheral vision. Kuroko withdrew his hand contritely, massaging his slightly reddened knuckles and pouting as though he’d been grievously injured. Kagami sighed, and lowered his weapon. “Sorry...habit. Aomine’s always stealing things from the pan and burning his stupid fingers off. It should be ready in a couple minutes, can you wait?”

 

“Of course, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko muttered, still rubbing his hand absently. His eyes tracked visibly from Kagami’s face down his chest to settle on the apron he’d tied (with some difficulty) around his waist, where they brightened with a faint hint of amusement.

 

“What?” Kagami asked, tipping his head down to check that he hadn’t spilled anything on himself. The more evident than ever bulge of his stomach had caused a sort of pocket to form in the fabric just beneath his chest; he wouldn’t have been surprised if anything he dropped ended up collecting there without him noticing. But Kuroko was shaking his head, a genuine, endearing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he covered it with his un-scolded hand, presumably to stifle a laugh.

 

“Nothing, you just...you look very cute in that, like an attentive housewife.”

 

“Alright look, you little...” Kagami began, brandishing his spatula at him threateningly, but he stopped short as two things happened simultaneously. The bathroom door clicked open, signaling the end of Aomine’s shower, and the acrid smell of burning eggs began to permeate the air.

 

“Shit!” He yelped, whipping back around and focusing his attention on trying to save the omelette’s life. It still ended up alarmingly brown and filmy on one side as he rolled it up, but there weren’t enough eggs left to make another, so he just slid it onto a plate next to its much more appetizing predecessors and resolved to let Aomine have it. For one thing, he wasn’t as picky as Kuroko and had been known to put less edible things in his mouth on occasion, and for another, he kind of deserved to be punished right now, after being so rude to Kuroko yesterday...and to Kagami this morning.

 

“I apologize for being a distraction, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko murmured, twiddling his fingers in front of himself and lowering his gaze guiltily.

 

“No, it wasn’t your fault,” Kagami sighed, checking the timer on the rice to make sure he didn’t burn that too.  _ I’ve been like this all morning… _ He wasn’t sure if it was the disturbing dream Aomine had told him about, or the short argument that had followed, or something else entirely, but he felt thoroughly off-kilter and distracted today, and he’d noticed, just as he was sure Aomine had earlier, how his emotions were also blowing hot and cold with the slightest push. This could only bode so well, especially once the three of them were in the same room together. 

 

The potential for awkwardness, or a fight, was already starting to strain the air as it was -- Kagami could practically sense it, even from Aomine all the way down the hall -- and it only required the proper timing and ingredients to ignite. Aomine was pissed at Kuroko, so Kagami was pissed at Aomine, and so, by extension, Aomine would surely end up pissed at Kagami too. And as he considered this dilemma, he felt a dull throbbing beginning to settle in his temples, suggesting an oncoming headache to add into the mix.  _ Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea… _

 

The rice dinged, and a moment later, Aomine appeared in the doorway, in a T-shirt and sweats with his hair still damp from the shower, a few errant blue strands sticking to his forehead with moisture. Kagami saw his narrow eyes cut to the kitchen warily, and glanced around for Kuroko, who seemed to have spontaneously vanished without a trace, as per usual. One of the omelette rolls -- the burned one, along with its plate and a bowl of miso soup -- was also conspicuously missing. Kagami sincerely hoped Kuroko planned on eating more than his usual two bites this time, but didn’t have high hopes that he’d finish it.

 

“When I said breakfast, I didn’t mean you had to go this far,” Aomine remarked as he padded barefoot into the kitchen, surveying Kagami’s handiwork distractedly, “I was expecting toaster waffles or something, not a fucking banquet.”

 

“We have company,” Kagami reminded him shortly, scooping up his own plate and some rice and turning away, “If you want to join us, just keep your mouth shut unless you’re putting food in it.”

 

Aomine was quick to disobey, opening his mouth as if about to argue, but Kagami walked out of the kitchen before he could say anything. Setting his plate down next to Kuroko’s and carefully easing himself to the floor beside him, he glanced up to make sure Aomine  _ did _ intend on joining them, and wouldn’t just stay in the kitchen sulking until Kuroko left. 

 

He needn’t have worried; a few moments later Aomine came to join them at the table, though he seemed reluctant and kept his gaze averted from them both as he muttered a quick thanks and started wolfing down his (perfectly cooked) omelette. Across the table, Kuroko was picking at his, separating the burned egg into pieces with his chopsticks and arranging the pieces into rows, only occasionally picking one up and delicately placing it in his mouth. He did the same thing at almost every meal, and for awhile it had driven Kagami crazy to watch him eat, but by now he was pretty used to it, and just focused on his own breakfast, ignoring his company on either side and attempting to keep the relative peace between them. It would be great if they could just get along and manage a polite conversation, but Kagami didn’t think they (particularly Aomine) were capable of it at this moment in time, so he supposed he could settle for eating in silence.

 

But Kuroko, it seemed, could not. In between unrolling his pieces of omelette and picking vegetables out, he spared Kagami and Aomine each a searching glance before breaking the quiet casually. 

 

“So where is the baby going to sleep?”

 

Kagami almost choked, struggling to swallow what was in his mouth and not spew it across the table. Aomine, though, didn’t seem surprised, and just paused, set his chopsticks down coolly, and leaned an elbow on the table, chin in his hand, without answering. His eyes hadn’t left Kuroko’s face in almost a full minute.

 

“I-in a crib?” Kagami guessed, once his windpipe was clear. Honestly he hadn’t given it that much thought, as was the case with many specifics about  _ after _ the baby was born. He was just trying to get to that point, both physically and mentally, and it still seemed a pretty long ways off, so he figured he had time...for now...to figure those things out eventually.

 

The corner of Kuroko’s mouth lifted ever so slightly, but the patient yet cautious look didn’t leave his unblinking eyes. “I meant which room? The apartment only has one bedroom, or I assume I wouldn’t have been on the couch last night.”

 

“You assume,” Aomine echoed under his breath. Kagami kicked him under the table.

 

“We haven’t really...discussed that yet,” He admitted, a little self-consciously, “I mean, I guess there’s enough space by the bed to fit a crib…”

 

“In the same room, then?” Kuroko asked skeptically, tracing his lower lip with his thumb, “I suppose that would remove the need for monitors...but it may not be convenient for either of you. Or the child, once it’s old enough to walk, and…”

 

“It’d be temporary,” Kagami cut in, staving off a wave of uncertainty and mounting panic, as he began to realize just how much about this he’d neglected to consider. He hadn’t, for instance, taken the time even in passing to picture holding the baby, or placing it in a crib to sleep, waking up to feed it in the morning, or what would happen when it was old enough to get out of the crib on its own…the scale of detail and involvement he hadn’t taken into account before now was unexpected, and was instantly overwhelming. 

 

“Just until we can...get a bigger place…” He trailed off, dropping his gaze to the table and studying its dark, modern frame. His father had bought this table. Actually, his father owned this whole apartment and everything in it, save a few clothes and magazines and most of the food in the kitchen. There was no way Aomine’s puny salary could cover a place like this, let alone one with more bedrooms, or a proper house. Even if both of them worked, it still seemed implausible that they would get out of here...and that might end up being a whole lot more than _ inconvenient _ in the long run.

 

_ ‘What if your dad moved back to Japan, though?’ _ Aomine’s voice chipped into his thoughts, the memory of him asking on the train, with a rather uncharacteristic look of concern, resurfacing as he closed his eyes wearily. ‘ _ Even if it’s years from now...no,  _ especially _ then…’ _

 

He got it now. What if his father returned from America someday in the future to find that not only had an uninvited additional resident (or two) appeared in his home, but his mature,  _ responsible _ , straight-as-an-arrow son was suddenly both a raging homosexual and a teen parent? 

 

Not that his father was openly homophobic -- in fact Kagami didn’t know his position on the subject; it had never been brought up between them before -- but even providing he turned out to be accepting, and understanding, there was only so much of... _ this _ that any sane person would be totally okay with, and even objectively speaking, Kagami recognized that he had dropped the ball big time since he’d seen his father last.

 

‘ _ Hey Dad, guess what? Since you’ve been gone, I fucked my biggest rival, some-the fuck-how got myself pregnant, quit basketball and dropped out of college to raise the kid neither of us are ready for. Aren’t you proud of me?’ _

 

With a defeated groan, he bent over and laid his forehead against the tabletop, the cool glass surface doing nothing to soothe the pounding of his head that had only gotten worse the more he thought about this.

 

“Kagami?”

 

“Are you alright, Kagami-kun?”

 

Shutting out both of their worried voices, Kagami squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, trying to force the mocking thoughts laden with self-loathing to leave his mind. How had he wound up here, in this mess, after getting through high school fine and cruising right into college without a problem? How had he let it all fall apart like this? He remembered trying to pin it on Aomine at first, for showing up out of the blue and thoroughly derailing all his security and progress, but really, he had no one to blame but himself. All the choices he’d made, leading up to this point, he’d been in complete control of the entire time. He couldn’t always control his circumstances, but he could certainly have chosen to handle them differently, and then...where would he be right now?

 

His eyes opened slowly to their own distorted reflections in the thick pane of glass below, his strange eyebrows furrowed over them looking even stranger in the makeshift mirror. Gradually, he peeled his forehead from the table and sat up. 

 

On either side of him was a pair of concerned blue eyes; one dark, one light...his partner and rival and the father of his child-to-be, and his best friend, his teammate who had stuck with him through high school and everything after. Somehow, all of those choices he’d made had sat him down right between them, and despite the bad blood keeping them apart right now, he was glad to be there.

 

“I’m okay,” he assured them both, trying for a smile when that didn’t seem to convince either of them an inch, “I’m okay…”

 

“Kagami,” Aomine intoned, evident confusion and concern putting a dent in between his slender eyebrows. Kagami felt a vague inclination to reach out and gently smooth away that crease, and the stress that must have caused it, and a moment later, he was wiping his cheek in surprise as a single silent tear slipped down from the corner of his eye, tracking quickly down toward his chin.

 

“Kagami-kun, what’s wrong?” Kuroko asked softly, scooting a little closer while still keeping a respectful distance away from him and Aomine.

 

“I don’t know…” Kagami swiped another confusing tear away, trying to hide his eyes behind his hands. He was rarely ever upset to the point of feeling the need to cry; he didn’t even feel that upset right now, so he was at even more of a loss than usual when it came to dealing with the tears. He had no idea what caused them, so he had no idea how to make them stop.

 

“Do you...want to talk about it?” Aomine attempted awkwardly, seeming unsure how to respond to the waterworks turning on all of the sudden. 

 

_ You and me both… _ Kagami hiccuped a short laugh and lowered his hands slightly, “H-how can I talk about it if I don’t even know what’s wrong?”

 

“Well,” Kuroko began analytically, propping his chin on his knuckles and scrutinizing Kagami closely, with a comforting sort of patience, “We were discussing arrangements for where the baby will sleep, after it’s born, and you mentioned that your plans were only temporary, and then…” He made a sort of expectant gesture with his free hand, as if prompting Kagami to fill in the rest.

 

“...I was thinking about my dad,” Kagami said slowly and cautiously, rubbing his still wet eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, “How this apartment’s really his, not mine, and...what he’d think if he were to come back to it right now, or later…”

 

“And what would that be?” Kuroko asked, just as Aomine opened his mouth, probably to ask something similar before being beaten to the punch.

 

Kagami shrugged, and averted his gaze. “No idea. I don’t think that’s what this is about.”

 

“Then what it is about?” Aomine cut in, frowning with frustration as he seemed to search Kagami’s face for some kind of clue, “I mean, if this is just another mood swing or whatever I’ll drop it, but...I don’t think that’s all it is.”

 

“It’s not that complicated,” Kagami stammered quickly, waving him off, “I just...it’s just...a lot, I think.”

 

Aomine looked confused, raising one eyebrow and crossing his arms. “A lot,” he repeated, “Huh. News flash. It’s been  _ a lot _ for a long time now, or hadn’t you noticed?”

 

Kuroko looked across at Aomine reproachfully, earning himself a cold glare in return, and heaved a sigh. “I am available to you, Kagami-kun, however you need me to be. It’s perfectly reasonable for you to feel overwhelmed by this, even at this stage, and if you feel you need someone to talk to, I am always open to being a listening ear.”

 

Getting to his feet, he gave a polite bow to each of them; a noticeably shorter one for Aomine than for Kagami. “Excuse me. Thank you for your hospitality, and for the meal,”  _ You hardly touched yours, _ Kagami found himself thinking absently, before shaking the idle thought away, “I hope we will be in contact again very soon.”

 

Kagami hesitated. He guessed that Kuroko was sensing that this was a discussion he and Aomine had to have on their own, and was attempting to bow out as gracefully and considerately as possible to allow for it to happen. Part of Kagami understood that he felt like a third wheel putting additional strain on the situation, and that he’d been trying to rectify that all morning, but another part didn’t want him to go just yet. Didn’t want to lose the buffer between himself and...whatever Aomine was going to try to dig out and make him face, as soon as they were alone.

 

“Sure,” he managed after a moment, plastering an obligatory, grateful smile onto his face and standing as well to see him out, “We will be.”

 

“Until next time, Aomine-kun…”

 

Aomine relaxed his shoulders, barely, but he didn’t get up. “Yeah. Later, Tetsu.”

 

The door clicked behind Kagami as he followed Kuroko into the hallway, and there they just stood in silence, looking at each other.

 

They both spoke at the same time.

 

“I’ve missed this.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

The slightly wistful look vanished from Kuroko’s face, to be replaced by bewilderment. “For what?”

 

Kagami swallowed and tried to figure out exactly what he wanted to say. “For putting all this on you...for Aomine being awful and making you feel unnecessary and...like shit.”

 

A tiny flash of wry humor touched Kuroko’s lips, and he shook his head, “I’m more than used to Aomine-kun and his emotional constipation,” he grinned, “Our relationship has rarely  _ not _ held at least a fair amount of tension...he’ll come around when the time is right for him; I’m fine with waiting. And you don’t need to apologize for involving me in this. In fact I would appreciate if you’d involve me more, you and Aomine-kun shouldn’t have to do this all alone. As I said, I’m available to you both, wherever I am needed.”

 

“Okay,” Kagami agreed, feeling a piece of the weight pressing down on his shoulders lift, “You were saying that you missed this? ...What did you miss?”

 

Kuroko’s smile turned rather unexpectedly affectionate, “I’ve simply missed Kagami-kun, I suppose. It’s been awhile since we’ve spent this much time together. I’ve even missed Aomine-kun’s shining face,”  _ Was that sarcasm?  _ Kagami blinked,  _ Since when is Kuroko sarcastic? _ “...He really is different around you, you know.”

 

Kagami sighed, “Yeah...I got it.”

 

He returned the parting wave he was given as Kuroko started down the apartment stairs, and for a moment he just watched him go, putting off having to go back inside for as long as he could. Then, shaking his head and steeling himself, he turned around and pushed the door open to face Aomine, who hadn’t moved from his spot by the table, though he had gotten to his feet, expectant, as though waiting for his turn to speak. He took a deep breath, shoulders rising.

 

“Kagami...we need to talk.”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Yeah, this story's still crawling along, it seems. Though, to be fair, I've been having trouble finding time to sit down and write anything at all, so any progress is a step in the right direction. I've also been thinking of rewriting this story again...or at least writing a different, more condensed, updated version, sometime in the future. This fic has spanned almost three years, and has seen a lot of changes in my style and experience as a writer, it might be nice to have a shorter, more cohesive and believable story with clearer details and progression...someday.  
> Anyway, hopefully this story will be (finally) drawing toward completion relatively soon, and I'll only be making a decision regarding a redux once it's finished. I won't just leave this one hanging, so don't worry about that.  
> Comments give me life, and keep this story going (relatively) strong. Feed the author!))


	31. Chapter 31

Only after he’d cleared off the table, put whatever food was left over in the fridge and tipped the dishes into the sink did Kagami actually turn and acknowledge Aomine, slinging the apron from over his shoulders and using it to dry his hands.

 

“Okay, what.”

 

Aomine, who had been leaning his folded arms against the countertop, watching him work, started as if woken from a deep thought.

 

“What, what?” he blinked, confusion robbing him of what little articulation he might have possessed on a good day.

 

Shaking his head with a flicker of amusement, Kagami balled up the apron in his hand and motioned with the other outside of the kitchen, “You said we needed to talk,” he shrugged, already bracing for whatever subject Aomine was going to bring up once his memory was jogged. His front of indifference was only that, a front, but he hoped that maybe if he kept things lighthearted between them, their discussion wouldn’t turn into another argument. “So, let’s talk.”

 

He thought he had a pretty good idea what Aomine wanted to talk about. A guess, at least, based on his previous attitude and behavior. And while he didn’t really look _forward_ to taking any more heat for his past...situation with Kuroko, and the fact that he hadn’t told Aomine about it, he supposed he could put up with a discussion about communication and honesty or whatever before laying the matter firmly to rest. If it would make Aomine stop sulking and obsessing and glaring at Kuroko all the time, it was probably worth it.

 

“Oh, right,” Aomine muttered, stepping away from the counter and shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweats, still looking away and clearly uncomfortable, “I uh...wanted to talk to you about...” Reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, he swallowed and went on in little more than an embarrassed mumble, “How you kinda haven’t been...honest. With me.”

 

Sighing, Kagami lowered his hands to his sides and nodded grudgingly to show he was listening. _Here we go again..._

 

“I get that you’re not that open with...personal stuff...with like, anyone, and we still haven’t even really known each other that long when you get down to it, but…” Finally glancing at Kagami, Aomine held eye contact just long enough for him to see how much he was really struggling to put this delicately, before quickly looking away again. “Shit, I’m not good at this…what I’m trying to say is --”

 

“I get it,” Kagami interrupted, impatience taking over as he turned and started to leave the kitchen, gesturing brusquely for Aomine to follow, “You’re pissed that I didn’t tell you about Kuroko when you asked, you already made that pretty clear. And okay, you’re right, I should have been honest with you, but --”

 

Aomine’s hand closed around his wrist, imposing, and Kagami stopped on his way to the bedroom, looking back at him in confusion.

 

“Dumbass,” he began, releasing his hand and shaking his head with a strangely subdued sort of exasperation, “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

 

Taken aback, Kagami blinked, and then felt his face settle into a wary, defensive frown, feeling about as slow as he was often accused of being as he tried to figure out what he meant, “Then what, what are you talking about? Get to the point already.”

 

“I’m _trying_ to, if you’d just give me a goddamn -- never mind,” Aomine said quickly, switching gears and fixing Kagami with a hard, resolute glare, “The _point_ is, in a couple of months we’re gonna be parents, in this apartment which belongs to your dad. The _point_ is, even though you’ve already met and/or heard all about _my_ parents, I still know fuck-all about yours. And I wouldn’t even care about that -- I get it, you guys aren’t close, it’s none of my business -- but it _will_ be my business if your old man ever decides to come back, and he gives me or my kid shit for being here.” Drawing up to his full height, he looked down his nose at Kagami, critically, unflinchingly, the way he’d once sized him up before going one-on-one with him, a million years ago, “So I need you to be honest right now, and tell me what the odds are of that happening.”

 

Kagami hesitated, a little caught off guard by that response that was surprisingly legitimate and...rehearsed, it sounded like. Aomine must have been thinking about this for awhile now, and his near-complete silence during breakfast suddenly made a lot more sense.

 

Shifting his weight uncomfortably, Kagami wrung the apron still clutched in his hands, and considered what he could actually say for sure. He hadn’t seen his father -- or any of his family really -- since high school or before, and neither kept tabs on the other at this point, but he and Aomine hadn’t been without rent thus far, so clearly at least part of his father’s attention was still going toward his second home in Japan. His rather hectic and unpredictable work life had been what had kept him from living here with Kagami while he was in school in the first place, it was really anyone’s guess whether he would decide to return sometime in the future, and how he would take these...new developments if and when he did.

 

“H-how much do you want to know?” he began carefully, testing the ground and trying to keep the uncertainty from showing on his face. He was stalling, and he knew it, but he got the feeling if he told Aomine what was on his mind right now -- that he honestly didn’t know, and had no way of knowing -- they wouldn’t get anywhere and most likely, Aomine wouldn’t even accept that answer as the truth, as far as he knew it.

 

“Everything,” Aomine replied, unyielding. But after a beat, he went on, seeming a little less so, “Look, we’ve...kind of been on a need-to-know basis lately, right? I don’t push you if you don’t push me, and we stay out of each other’s business mostly...but I don’t think that’s gonna work for us in the long run. If it’s something important like this that affects us both, we’ve at least gotta be on the same damn page about it, okay?”

 

Kagami sighed. It was a fair point, and he couldn’t argue with it, but he still didn’t look forward to admitting exactly how much he didn’t know about his father’s enigmatic, rather fickle lifestyle.

 

“Okay,” he said dourly, lowering his gaze, “You want honesty? I _honestly_ have no fucking idea. My dad’s been sort of AWOL for awhile now, hasn’t called or texted or even sent me an email since high school. I saw him in LA last summer, during my third year, but for all I know he could have dropped off the goddamn continent since then.”

 

He didn’t really want to explain the reason for the sudden lapse of contact either, but Aomine had asked to know everything, so he supposed that was in the fine print too.

 

“We had a...sort of a disagreement,” he began, scratching his cheek self-consciously with his free hand and studying the hardwood under his feet, “Or a fight, I guess. Bottom line, he wanted me to go into Administration and Management and help run the family business in America, but I didn’t want to give up on trying to go pro. I ended up leaving LA three days earlier than I originally planned, and we haven’t talked since.”

 

That was still a bit of a skeletal summary of what had happened, without bringing up the meat of the conflict, like the fact that his father had gotten a new girlfriend, and she hadn’t gotten along with Kagami in the slightest. Or the fact that they’d both ganged up on Kagami in a furious shouting match that had wound up with him storming out the door and trying to book a last-minute hotel for the night. In Los Angeles. During summer vacation.

 

Needless to say, that last day had been a bit of a nightmare. He was over it now, he figured, the whole thing had been pretty petty and pointless and he had bigger things to worry about these days. But it had still put a fair amount of tension and animosity between him and his father, and left him only able to blindly guess at what he might be doing or thinking, now or in the future.

 

When he chanced a glance at Aomine, he found him furrowing his eyebrows thoughtfully, digesting the information in silence.

 

“Your dad wanted you to be a businessman?” he asked finally, wrinkling his nose as if he found the idea either disgusting or hilarious, and was trying not to show it.

 

“Well, he did hint a couple times that he thought playing basketball was just a waste of my time,” Kagami shrugged, “I didn’t know he felt that strongly about it, but I guess he was really counting on me taking over for him someday, and I let him down… ‘Course that’s all irrelevant now, since I ended up dropping out of school anyway, but still…”

 

“Bullshit,” Aomine snapped, heat flaring in his narrowed eyes, now trained harshly on Kagami’s face, “If he thinks that, then he obviously hasn’t ever seen you play. It’d be a fucking crime to make you sit in an office all day and like, read flow charts or whatever the fuck --”

 

“Maybe so,” Kagami interrupted, ruffling his bangs with one hand distractedly. He’d essentially told his father the same thing, insofar as that he wasn’t planning on spending his future in a stuffy conference room when his passion had always been on the basketball court, and _that_ hadn’t been received very well at all. “But that’s not the point, is it? Right now I couldn’t play professionally even if I wanted to, or do what he was hoping I’d do with my life. Either way I still don’t have any idea what’s going on with him, or when his plans might change. He could show up tomorrow and expect me not to even be here anymore, or years from now...or not at all...”

 

Aomine was silent for a moment, still appearing to be seething over the horrible injustice of Kagami having to give up basketball forever to spend his life in a suit. Kagami felt strangely touched by the apparent outrage on his behalf, but that wasn’t really what he’d meant for Aomine to focus on here.

 

“...So why don’t you call him and find out?” Aomine asked at last, “You can still reach him, can’t you?”

 

Kagami faltered, “Well...yeah, but…”

 

He trailed off, shuffling his feet uncertainly. Yeah, he _could_ still call his father and find out for himself what his agenda might be, but that would mean most likely explaining his current situation to him --  in broadest terms, at least -- and was _this_ really how he wanted to break the silence after all that time? After the explosive, mutually discontented note they’d left off on? Not only had all his plans of defiance and proving his old man wrong fallen through pretty spectacularly in just a few months, but honestly... _everything_ had kind of gone to shit since they’d last spoken. And he had a feeling that, whatever his father’s reaction ended up being to...all of this...given how disastrously their last conversation had gone, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

 

His hands moved, seemingly of their own accord, to rest against the heavy protrusion of his rounded stomach, smoothing absently over the swollen flesh barely contained by the straining fabric of his shirt. His eyes gradually fell shut, and a long, low sigh rushed out of him.

 

“Kagami?” Aomine prompted, concern wrapping around his voice and turning it soft.

 

Taking a deep breath, Kagami straightened and lowered his hands to his sides, “I know I should, and I’ve...been putting it off for a long time, it’s just...after everything that’s happened, I don’t know how he’s going to take this. Any of this.”

 

Aomine looked at him for a moment, considering, and then shrugged with an encouraging half-smile, “Hey, he’s your dad, right? You guys are family...besides, he’s in America right now, what’s the worst he could do?”

 

_Cut off our rent and get us evicted from the apartment...fly back to Japan first thing in the morning just to kick us out personally...turn out to be a gigantic homophobe and leave me with that knowledge for the rest of my life…_

 

“Yeah…right,” Kagami murmured, subconsciously wrapping the forgotten apron in his hand around and around his wrist, “I’ll...call him tonight. ‘Cause of the time difference and all...”

 

He thought Aomine might have eyed him doubtfully, but when he looked, he was just nodding in agreement, “Alright, that’s settled then. ...Thanks for that.”

 

Kagami blinked, startled out of his foreboding thoughts, “Thanks for what now?”

 

Aomine rolled his eyes, like Kagami was missing something that was only common sense, “For opening up and stuff...about your dad? I know it’s not really in your comfort zone to talk about personal shit like that...”

 

_Is it really that obvious, even to someone like Aomine?_

 

Sighing to himself, he decided to just roll with it, “Sure. I’m gonna go...get dressed.”

 

The statement itself was casual enough, but really, it was becoming a bit of an uphill battle to find anything he could wear that actually fit him anymore. At all. His shirts rode up horribly, and all the waistbands of his pants cut into his hips, and chafed uncomfortably below the sensitive swell of his belly. He’d stopped wearing jeans entirely. It wasn’t totally unmanageable -- _not yet,_ he thought with a flash of unease -- but it was still frustrating, and a little humiliating at times when he managed to tire himself out with such a simple task as putting on clothes.

 

Tossing the stained apron into the laundry basket over his shoulder, he faced the dresser in his room, and his dwindling wardrobe options, like an old enemy.

 

Even getting out of his clothes these days was a struggle, and took entirely too much squirming and straining to reach his ankles, and losing his breath by the time he fought free of his shirt. In all his life, he never would have thought he would have to catch his breath in between changing shirts. And then have the ordeal start all over again trying to get the damn thing _on._

 

Aomine must have followed him into the bedroom at some point, because just as Kagami was holding down the lower hem of his shirt with one hand while painstakingly dragging the waistband of his sweatpants up and over his hips with the other, he decided to speak up from behind him.

 

“...How long has that been a problem?” It wasn’t quite an accusation, but his tone was definitely displeased.

 

Wrestling with the knot in order to loosen the drawstring -- though there wasn’t much slack left to accommodate him -- Kagami attempted to shrug dismissively at the same time, “Just a couple weeks, it’s not --”

 

“A couple _weeks?_ ” Aomine butted in, and okay, _now_ he sounded pretty accusing, “Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve...we could’ve… you’ve just been --!”

 

Kagami frowned, and turned to face him, fastening the drawstring around his waist, “It’s really not a big deal.”

 

Aomine looked, for a moment, like he wanted to shout at him, but instead he just pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a frustrated, exhausted sigh.

 

“Kagami,” he said with obviously forced patience, “You not being able to wear your goddamn clothes is a pretty big deal. And it’s just gonna get worse before it gets better, dumbass, you think this is as big as you’re gonna get?”

 

“Sh-shut up!” Kagami scowled, fighting an embarrassed flush that he could feel crawling up his neck, “I would’ve...”

 

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Aomine sighed, shaking his head with apparent resignation, “Man, Tetsu was right, you’re total shit at asking for help when you need it.”

 

“Kuroko said that?”

 

“Something like that.” Seeming to have shaken off the rest of his irritation, Aomine approached him and gently, almost teasingly tugged the bottom of his shirt down over his belly, “I get paid on Friday, we’ll go get you some new clothes, okay?”

 

Swallowing another halfhearted protest, Kagami slumped his shoulders slightly, deciding that surrender was probably in his best interest at this point. And in it -- in the prospect of not having to keep dealing with this particular hardship and annoyance in an already lengthy list -- he found a small measure of relief.

 

“Okay,” he agreed, accepting the brief, answering kiss Aomine pressed to the corner of his mouth, “Thanks, Aomine.”

 

Aomine huffed a breath, and flicked him in the forehead with a lazy smirk, “Don’t thank me for the normal stuff, idiot. That’s what I’m here for.”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I am so sorry...so sorry for the FIVE MONTH wait, y'all, it's been kind of crazy over here lately. School coming up again, tons of hours working the new job, carpal tunnel syndrome, and a complete lack of focus and faith in my own writing have just been conspiring against me, I think. Thanks for your patience, and I know this chapter's a little short and kind of uneventful (all these guys ever do is talk...honestly) but that's kind of what I needed to get back into the swing of this story. Hopefully I can get back on track and make updates a little more regular, so the story can keep progressing.
> 
> Thank you guys for sticking with me through my rough patches, and once again, comments give me life. Seriously. The feedback I get is probably the biggest thing driving me to get out of my funk and get writing again.))


	32. Chapter 32

 

Kagami had been sitting like this; legs folded, phone held open on his thigh, the knuckles of his other hand pressed against his lips, for almost five solid minutes now. Staring down at the tiny glowing screen and hovering his thumb over the keypad, inert and unseeing as his battery life slowly drained.

 

It wasn’t even nerves anymore, keeping him from just dialing a number and bringing the device up to his ear, and he’d run through enough what-if’s already to prepare for the worst case scenario. Mostly it was just...awkward...uncomfortable, to think about breaching this gap he’d created himself, and not only having to deal with the resulting insurgence of complicated feelings and questions, but having to raise even more as soon as he even attempted to explain himself to his father.

 

Essentially, he was on the edge of a frozen cliff holding a snowball, debating whether or not to let go and start it rolling.

 

The mattress dipped slightly, trembling, as Aomine joined him on it, crawling over in a casual invasion of his personal space to sit beside him. Kagami glanced up at him, catching a lingering hint of mint toothpaste on his breath as he leaned in to peer at the dimming screen of the phone in his lap.

 

“Just do it,” he said, before Kagami could open his mouth, sitting back a bit on his heels, “Get it over with, y’know? You might even feel better after.”

 

“Yeah,” Kagami sighed, a release of air rather than emotion, “I know.”

 

“Hey,” Aomine insisted,“You’re totally overthinking this, idiot. It’s gonna be fine...you’ve probably built it up in your head to be a lot worse than it is.”

 

Kagami couldn’t help but humor him with a tiny smirk, “Speaking from experience?”

 

With a shrug, Aomine flopped down horizontally across the bed, propping his chin up on his folded arms to look at him, “Something like that. ...Should I be here?”

 

“Like you’d actually leave after you’ve gotten all comfortable...”

 

Aomine laughed, crossing his ankles in the air and laying his cheek on his own long tan forearm, “If you really want some privacy you can kick me out.”

 

“I’m touched,” Kagami drawled, poking him with his foot teasingly, “You’re fine, though. I don’t think you’ll overhear anything that really comes as a shock.”

 

“Really? No dark family secrets you’re forbidden to share? No tragic backstory you’ve kept hidden all these years? No embarrassing cutesy nicknames you wouldn’t want --”

 

“Alright, if you don’t shut up, I really will kick you out,” Kagami warned, punching the international exit code into his phone with a scowl, “How good is your English, _Aho_ mine?”

 

Aomine huffed an amused breath, “Not great...I can get by. Why, you gonna be demonstrating some of yours, _Baka_ \-- _?”_

 

“Shh,” Holding up a finger for silence, Kagami brought his phone up to his ear, listening to the tone as it tried to reach across the ocean. It was probably still early morning there, though it was the middle of the night in Tokyo, but his father was a rather notoriously early riser, and Kagami had called him around this time before, once or twice...a long time ago.

 

Three rings, four...maybe he was still asleep. Maybe Kagami had miscalculated the time zone (again), maybe...

 

There was a click, and something in Kagami’s throat jolted, but rather than his father’s deep voice answering, a higher feminine voice came through in stilted, pre-recorded English, informing him that the number he was trying to reach had been disconnected.

 

“Shit,” he sighed, letting his phone snap closed and lowering it to his side.

 

“What?” Aomine prompted.

 

“I don’t know. He must’ve gotten a new phone or something. But then why didn’t he…?” He trailed off as another idea came to him, and flipped his phone open again.

 

“So what now?”

 

“I can probably call his work and ask them for his new number,” Kagami muttered, drawing his knees up to his chest, as far as they would go with the obstruction of his protruding belly, stress that he had pushed aside before already beginning to surface again, “But still...he should’ve...”

 

Aomine’s eyebrows lowered, drawing together in a frown of consideration, “...He should have told you that himself,” he supplied, nodding absently and redirecting his gaze as Kagami put his phone back up to his ear.

 

Kagami fought the urge to fidget as he listened to it ring, one leg jiggling restlessly despite his efforts, betraying his unease.

 

After a moment, the receptionist finally answered, cheerily asking if she could help him. _I sure hope so…_

 

“ _Hello,_ ” he started, imagining he could actually see Aomine’s ears perk up at the language switch, a flash of interest crossing his face as he lifted it slightly, “ _This is Taiga...Kagami. H-Hiroshi’s son? I’m calling to ask about...um...a recent change to his contact information..._ ”

 

 _Adult-speak for I’ve lost my dad’s goddamn phone number and he didn’t bother to tell me…_ he thought, somewhat venomously, propping his elbow on his bent knee to support his phone against his ear.

 

_“Okay, Taiga, let me see what I can do. Do you know what about Mr. Kagami’s contact information has been changed?”_

 

“ _His phone number...I think. I can’t get through to his cell, it says it’s been disconnected.”_ He fervently hoped that was all that had changed since he and his father had last talked. Though even that was concerning enough, considering the complete lack of notice.

 

“ _Hmm...well, I’m sorry but I don’t have a record of his personal phone here. If you’re willing to wait until he comes in this afternoon, you can call his office and speak to him directly. Is this an emergency?”_

 

Kagami sighed, and knew it was audible, and couldn’t muster the energy to care. “ _No, but…”_

 

_“I’ll leave you with his extension, then, and I’ll let him know to expect a call from you when he gets in. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help to you this morning...”_

 

“ _That’s okay,”_ Kagami muttered, mentally jotting down the extension number she listed off in response, “ _Thank you. Goodbye.”_

 

Snapping his phone closed again, he slumped in defeat, recognizing the dead-end he had reached for the time being.

 

“So...no luck?” Aomine guessed tentatively, breaking the silence as he rolled onto his side to face him.

 

“Not ‘til tomorrow morning,” Kagami scowled, face still hidden behind his knees.

 

“...A lot can change in a year,” Aomine went on after a beat, “Maybe he just forgot to tell you --”

 

“Well that’s just fucking great, isn’t it?” Kagami burst out, surprising himself, and, judging by the subtle widening of his eyes, surprising Aomine as well with the sheer malignance behind it, “What kind of parent just _forgets_ about their own kid? I mean...we didn’t exactly stay in contact every day before, but still...”

Aomine sat up, pushing himself up off the bed and folding his legs and arms, “Yeah, that’s a pretty shitty thing to do...even if it wasn’t on purpose. I’d be pissed off too, if it were me.”

 

Kagami sighed, anger cooling fast to be replaced by disappointment, “Your dad’s not...like that, though. He wouldn’t...ignore you because he’s too busy with work, or blow you off to leave the country for three years, or _forget_ to send a text or an email or a fucking letter before he goes and changes his number… I don’t know what else I expected, he’s always been like this.”

 

“What about your mom, then? Could you try to call her?”

Kagami just looked at him for a moment, and then shook his head silently. Try to contact his mother? No, that wasn’t even an option right now. Extremely complicated emotional conflict and nearly four years of total silence aside, she wasn’t even relevant to their situation right now. She wasn’t the one unwittingly holding their financial security and current place of residence in the palm of her hand...she wasn’t the one with the power to cut them off or kick them out, if this phone call ended up going the way Kagami feared it would.

 

And judging by how well his first attempt had gone, it didn’t exactly seem like the odds were in his favor.

 

.

 

.

 

Much as it annoyed him, much as it was difficult and went against his very nature, Aomine had to consider that he might be making a mistake. This was taking a lot longer to resolve than he’d expected, and during that time he’d not only paid witness to Kagami’s unease and reluctance to do it, but also inferred, based on the lengths he had to go to in order to even make contact with his father, how distant and tenuous their relationship really was.

 

He was fairly certain there were people Kagami had known less than a year who would be easier to reach than his own family. Who, if he was reading this right, might even care more about him and his situation than his own flesh and blood, and that didn’t exactly pose the best-case scenario for getting daddy’s blessing if and when they were able to get through to him. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

 

Plus, Kagami was right; Aomine might have had his own issues of tension and prolonged, willful deception with his own father, but he still couldn’t quite relate to Kagami’s position from where he was standing. Both of his parents -- adoptive or otherwise-- had been around to provide for him for as long as he could remember, for his whole life long without fail. What did he know about estranged fathers holding significant financial leverage over their previously closeted, unexpectedly fertile sons?

 

Come to think of it, he doubted anyone could really relate to that.

 

He didn’t think his solution was wrong _on principle_ , though, in fact he thought Tetsu, for one, might even have applauded him on it. Encouraging open communication and honesty and all, that was his whole thing. Then again, he did keep picturing his serenely disapproving face, telling him he was being ‘ _insensitive to Kagami-kun’s position just to try to cover your own ass’,_ or something.

 

Not that he would necessarily say it like that, and that wasn’t even what Aomine was _doing_ really -- at least, it wasn’t just his own ass he was covering -- but it still added to his sleepless guilt that he could hear his admonishing voice so clearly in his head.

 

He wasn’t _trying_ to out Kagami, or put him in an uncomfortable position, and he honestly wouldn’t care either way how this went, if his father’s blissful ignorance didn’t have such a direct and probable impact on their future. There was no telling what kind of shit might someday decide to hit the fan if they left this alone, and while Aomine wasn’t usually one to plan ahead, it turned out a pretty sizeable chunk of accidentally knocking someone up was sitting around waiting for things to happen. Actually, that was probably just pregnancy in a nutshell, but it did seem to be giving him some practice thinking in the long term, since this whole mess became frighteningly real all of a sudden.

 

Which was why he’d suggested that Kagami call his old man in the first place, but he might not have even brought it up if he’d known it was going to be this complicated, and make Kagami worry this much. He was doing a shit job of hiding how much it was eating at him; earlier he had been biting his nails, and even after going to bed he’d been restless, tossing and turning and stealing all the damn blankets while he was at it. He was clearly stressed the fuck out, and with good reason, but all Aomine could think about was how all that stress probably wasn’t good for the baby.

 

_Feel free to agonize over this shit with me, but don’t stunt the growth of my kid with it, dumbass._

 

And so it was that, frustrated, worried sick and without a wink of sleep to speak of, he joined Kagami far too early the next morning for another try at contacting his father.

 

“You didn’t have to get up,” Kagami muttered, as he shuffled like a zombie after him into the kitchen, probably knowing damn well by now what a non-morning person he was, “I can handle this myself, go back to sleep.”

 

 _I wasn’t asleep._ “That’s okay...this was my idea anyway, I gotta see how it works out.”

 

Kagami looked over at him from the cabinet where he was getting down -- _oh thank God --_ a pair of mugs, presumably for coffee.

 

“Okay, but I don’t think it’s gonna be exciting or anything...”

 

Aomine just grinned tiredly and leaned back against the counter, watching him go about the mundane process of grinding and filtering the beans into something drinkable. “Well, you never know.”

 

By the time he found himself sitting on the couch with a steaming mug in his hands, he was actually feeling just a little less dire about the whole situation. Possibly because Kagami also seemed to have relaxed a bit since his surprising outburst the night before, or possibly due to the magic of caffeine. It would be better to have this out of the way, to have one less thing to worry about, and hell, Aomine’s own parents had had a tough time with this whole thing at first, but they still both came around in the end. He couldn’t imagine what kind of parent wouldn’t do the same, at least eventually. This had to be the right call.

 

“Alright, here goes nothing,” Kagami sighed, setting his mug down on the table and flipping open his phone.

 

Aomine just sipped his coffee and waited, feeling a little like he was eavesdropping, though he didn’t expect to understand much of the upcoming conversation if Kagami was planning on demonstrating his bilingualism again. His grasp on the English language had always been pretty sucky, so he supposed he was mostly here for moral support.

 

He was surprised, then, that Kagami stuck to Japanese when he answered the phone, scrambling to his feet like he needed to pace while he talked, a restless tic Aomine understood fairly well. Maybe he wanted to make sure Aomine would be able to hear and understand what was going on, or maybe he was making sure the people in his father’s office _wouldn’t_ be able to listen in, he wasn’t sure, but he snapped to attention all the same.

 

“Hey...Dad, it’s Taiga. Sorry to bother you at work, I tried to call your cell last night...or um...this morning for you, but it said it was disconnected.” He sounded nervous, his voice stilted, and petering out at the end, like his father had started to interrupt him.

 

There was a pause, and then he quickly shook his head, though of course the person on the other end couldn’t see it.

 

“No, I...yeah. I know it’s been awhile, I uh...I meant to call you sooner, but things have been pretty crazy and I...didn’t know what to say...after...yeah. I know…” A look of extreme discomfort passed over his face and he stopped pacing, glancing briefly at Aomine and cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder, “Yeah um...about that, I’m not in school anymore, I kind of...dropped out?”

 

Aomine winced, breaking eye contact and bringing the lip of his mug back up to his face, but hesitating to take another sip, just watching the steam evaporate from the swirling dark liquid as he listened in silence.

 

“No. No, I...no, Dad, listen, it wasn’t that. My grades were fine, and I kept my scholarship while I was...it’s just...what? No, that’s not why...that’s not why I’m calling, I’m still not…” He sighed and started over, though he still seemed jittery and anxious, shifting his weight from foot to foot. _I’ve never seen him like this…_

 

“I’m not gonna transfer to America. I haven’t changed my mind about basketball, that’s not...what this is. I just wanted to let you know I moved back into the apartment again, and...” He trailed off, his split eyebrows furrowing by degrees, and then turned away from the sofa sharply, “I don’t know...a month or two? They didn’t change the locks when I moved out, and I haven’t really talked to... I know, and I'm not on the lease, but the rent’s still covered by direct deposit, right? I thought...”

 

There was a much longer stretch of silence then, and being unable to see Kagami’s face or hear what was being said, Aomine lost the trail of conversation entirely, only able to guess what the faint, muffled voice he could barely pick up from the phone’s distant, tiny speaker was saying.

 

“Calm down,” Kagami said finally, turning back around and snatching his phone up from his shoulder, taking a deep breath through his nose as if trying to follow his own advice, “It’s not like I’d trash the place, I lived here on my own for three years and I never...yeah. I know, that was... Well, things have been...complicated, lately, and I just...needed somewhere to... No, I um...I haven’t been working, but I’ve got someone here who --” He broke off, biting his lip as a panicked look came into his eyes, like he’d said something he really shouldn’t have.

 

Aomine sat back. _Huh. But wasn’t the whole point of this to tell his dad about us?_ Resting his cup against his knees, he narrowed his eyes at Kagami meaningfully, but Kagami wasn’t looking at him. Scratching the back of his neck with his free hand, he was looking at the ceiling, still worrying his lower lip maddeningly between his teeth.

 

“Well um...yeah, it’s a...” he cleared his throat and continued, and Aomine could see him trying to pick his words carefully, “It’s kind of a long story, but...see, my roommate...actually, wait. Back up...okay, back in high school, I kinda had this rival...”

 

 _Wait,_ Aomine thought, _He’s never mentioned me to his dad_ at all _until now?_ He remembered how often -- how _obsessively --_ he used to talk about Kagami to his own parents, and something in him shriveled a little with embarrassment. Hell, he might as well have been president of the goddamn Kagami Taiga Fan Club with the amount of times he’d opened conversation over dinner with ‘ _So today Kagami had this awesome play where...’_ or ‘ _I beat Kagami ten to one and he was so mad he called me a...'_ Things like that. It was kind of deflating to realize that hadn’t gone both ways even a little bit, apparently.

 

Kagami, meanwhile, had tried and failed to start a sentence without being cut off several times by now, and he seemed to be getting pissed. Or maybe it was nerves making his voice shake like that, Aomine wasn’t sure. Because he couldn’t hear the other side of this conversation, and didn’t know anything at all about Kagami’s father as a person, he didn’t know how he expected Kagami to act. Usually, when he was frustrated or angry, his voice would get louder, and he’d start gesticulating to emphasize his point, but if anything, he was only growing more subdued, drawing into himself and lowering his free hand to hang by his waist. Near but not touching the lower swell of his swollen stomach.

 

Finally, though, he did raise his voice indignantly, standing straighter and holding the phone away from his ear as if in disgust, “What? No! He wasn’t the reason I stopped -- he’s not a...he’s been working really hard to support me and…” He faltered, and after a moment, he seemed to steel himself, clenching his free hand into a fist resolutely. “Actually, you know what? Yes. I said _yes,_ we are, you hit the nail right on the fucking head with that...” He fell silent then, and lowered his head, all the anger seeming to just rush out of him as he exhaled heavily, leaving him sounding tired and disappointed, “Yeah, I am. Have been pretty openly for like, seven years, but thanks for noticing...”

 

There was another weighty pause, and when he opened his eyes again, there was so much anguish in them that Aomine was startled they could be that sad and still remain dry. In fact...no, they weren’t, and after the first tear broke away to track down Kagami’s face that had gone white as a ghost, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly, Aomine sprang to his feet and stalked over to snatch the phone from his grasp.

 

“What did you say to him, you piece of shit?” he snarled, pushing Kagami’s hand away when he tried to take the device back, “What did you fucking say, how can you talk to your own kid like that?”

 

He didn’t know what, but the bastard must have said _something_ to put that look of wretched misery and...and _shame_ on Kagami’s face. A look that shouldn’t have a place on anyone’s face, but especially not Kagami, especially not when he was talking to his own father.

 

A low, unfamiliar voice, unrattled and almost robotic in its forced politeness, answered. “I’m sorry, who is this now?”

 

“Aomine Daiki,” Aomine said lethally, through clenched teeth, “I’m Kagami’s...we’re together.”

 

Once again, Kagami tried to snatch the phone back, and once again Aomine evaded him, ducking out of his reach and blocking him with one arm, like he was on defense during a game.

 

“Is that right?” Kagami Senior asked, cool as a fucking cucumber and almost sounding _smug_ , the prick. “Alright then, Daiki, you can tell Taiga this from me: your relationship, whatever it may be, is fine with me. I have no problem with queers,” Aomine flinched at the cold disgust coating that last word, that last _slur;_ even if what he was saying sounded tolerant, his tone could not have been less so, “What consenting adults do in the privacy of their own homes is their business...but you’ve brought this under my roof, and have been there for some time now, I gather, with neither my notice nor my permission. I hope you do realize that you’re committing a crime?”

 

“What?” Aomine snapped, not knowing where to even _begin_ with that.

 

“Trespassing on someone else’s property is still against the law, even if you have the keys, you know,” With the casual, almost pleasant tone of his voice, he could have been talking about the weather, but there was still a definite undercurrent of violent dislike in it that he was trying and failing to hide.

 

“But you let Kagami live here before, didn’t you?” Aomine shot back, pacing away from Kagami, who seemed to have given up on retrieving his phone and was just standing there now, in the middle of the room, covering his eyes with one hand. “He’s your son, he’s got as much right to --”

 

“During high school, yes, I let him stay there, in Japan, because he didn’t want to leave his school and I didn’t want to pull him out of it, but now? Now, he tells me he’s dropped out of the college  _he_ picked and is staying there --”

 

“Yeah,”

 

“Without paying rent,”

 

“Well...”

 

“Without getting a _job_ , like some kind of  --”

 

“But --!”

 

“I have no doubt in my mind that you’re to blame for that, you’re probably a terrible influence, with nothing but _playing with balls_ on the brain --”

 

“Your son is pregnant, you asshole!” Aomine burst out. He didn’t know why he picked that moment to say it, but it had to be said, and he couldn’t stand that it was not being widely acknowledged here. It changed the whole story...it changed everything.

 

There was only a beat of silence, and then Kagami Senior picked right back up, sounding just as composed as before.

 

“My son is a practicing sodomite and a petty interloper, as far as I’m concerned. I can say the same and worse for you, especially if you’re going to tack such outrageous lies onto your first impression. Honestly I don’t care what either of you are or what you choose to do, I just won’t have it in my house, that’s all.”

 

“But...” Aomine grit out, softer this time. He was practically shaking with rage, but unable to find the words or the force behind them for a proper retort. Silent and gasping like he’d been punched in the stomach, at a loss and totally fucking useless. Goddammit.

 

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” Kagami’s father went on, after patiently waiting to see if Aomine would say anything to defend himself. _Bastard..._ “I’m going to call the landlord tonight, to make him aware of a couple of squatters that have taken up residence on my property, and if you both have not vacated the premises within the week, then I’m going to have him call the police.”

 

Aomine felt his mouth fall open in shock, unable to believe his ears.

 

“You can’t _do_ that --!” he began, but once again, he was interrupted.

 

“I certainly can. Consider this an eviction notice, I suggest you pack your things, and do it quickly.”

 

Chancing a glance at Kagami, Aomine found him sitting on the edge of the sofa, head bowed, hands dangling defeated between his knees. He’d seen this coming, he must have, but he’d gone through with it anyway, because Aomine hadn’t believed him, and had assured him it would be fine. _Couldn’t have just left it the fuck alone, could you? You had to go digging in his business, and look what happened. Look what you fucking did._

 

“Oh, and one more thing,” Kagami’s father continued calmly, but Aomine was hardly listening anymore, “Don’t call this number again, I don’t want to hear Taiga's voice anymore, especially not here in my place of work. Goodbye.”

 

Even before the tone signaling the end of the call, Aomine’s hand was lowering to his side, and he let the phone snap shut with finality in his grasp.

 

He looked at Kagami, slumped miserably on his father’s sofa, in his father’s house, about to be kicked for good from his father’s life. Washed up, homeless, fucking pregnant and all of it was Aomine’s fault. He opened his mouth, to explain, to apologize, to beg for mercy, but all he could get out of it was one single word.

 

“Fuck.”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I did it, y'all...I finally got this fucking chapter done it's only been AGES...all that in-between stuff is excruciating to write, but necessary. Also holy hell that turned out long, but we finally got some angst and conflict and flip phone drama back in there, praise the laud.  
> I'm sorry once again for the slow updates, I'm not dead, I've just started at art school halfway across the country and it's been...an adjustment. But I've recently gotten sucked back into this fandom and this pairing (blame the Last Game, honestly) so I'll try to use that to keep this story moving along.  
> Comments really do give me life, thank you all so much for your support, and for sticking with me for so long.))


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